proof
I'm sick of all these lies
that revolve and hypnotize me
and I really need to stop
before I die...

I'm sick of all this truth
and how I give myself the proof
to pin me down in all these
ill-conceived goodbyes...

When I should stand,
I'm not sure that I can.

I've fallen without grace.
Hey, I could never keep my place
for longer than it took
for me to sabotage.

It's always been tough
to say that I was good enough,
and leave behind this
comfortable mirage...

When I should stand,
I'm not sure that I can.

I'm sick of all this pain
and all the ways that I'm 'insane'
and how they never understand
my state of mind...

I'm tired of my doubt
and all the drive I am without
and, no; I don't want anymore
of your advice.

If I should stand...
Would I see where this began?

I'm sick of all these lies...
And all the proof I have that I despise.