“I scribble death letters to myself everyday
Sitting here, locked away, gone astray, with my disarray
Mind torn apart by the box that’s in front of me
Tryin’ to erase all the pain that’s become of me
I’m perceived as conceited
I’m reachin’ and screamin’ at the top of my lungs (Why?)
In need of a miracle, a spiritual calm to come
Seep through the walls and delete the pitch black
That you hear in these songs”