With bitter tongue and broken nail,
you drag yourself from this hell.
Breathe deep only to choke.
You find your heaven has become a joke.
Where do the weary go,
when the road dead ends?
And on this lonesome journey,
pain was your only friend.
To whom do you sell your heartache,
your whispers in the wind?
When you find its all a lie,
do you give up, and just pretend?
When your pain bleeds but to sorrow,
whose scars do you heal?
And when it all becomes too much,
do you ever wish it were real?