If someone stepped on your pride,
tossed it around like a unused shirt
and threw it to the ground after he's had enough,
would you remember how to get back up?
Would you know how it is to be
comfortable with yourself and not want to
run away inside your head?
Maybe you wouldn't know,
not this time, not this day,
somehow it's just all delayed in a sense
you won't really be happy with this anymore.

Living life like this, like that;
you start feeling everyone's an enemy
and loneliness is a comfort to be loved.
There's no one there to make you feel
that you're loved, you're okay being you,
because there's no one out there.
And there's no one to blame even if you
die off as a nobody,
maybe that's fine as well.