The Comedian is Dead - Sea Of Treachery

God, the room won’t stop

If I could just open my eyes forever

I’d never have to feel this lost again

But would I feel as whole

As in control?

Am I slowly drowning

Or staying afloat

With each soothing burn cascading?

Maybe Hunter was right

Taking all this in is overwhelming

All attempts to heal are badly failing

Is there something more that I am missing?

Feigning what I feel…

Am I really falling further?

Is this the final straw?

Fortune has its way of laughing

On those with scars laid bare

Am I really falling further?

Is this the final straw?

Fortune has its way of laughing

On those with scars laid bare

I wake up surrounded by evidence

Of another night gone awry

Why can’t I break this cycle of relapse and revelry?

I have lost composure

For what seems like the hundredth time today

I don’t know why I can’t get beyond the urge to drown myself

This current pulls me under

Beneath the undertow

As shattered memories wash out to see

Floating down

I fight back the tide

(I will fight the tide.)

And I’m as useless as an orphan’s cry

From virulent sustenance

The product of consequence

From virulent sustenance

The product of consequence

From virulent sustenance

The product of consequence

My body forces retribution

For the onslaught it endures

Another night of purging myself of my weakness

Pull me from the water

It’s time that I finally breathe again

I’m a fucking mess

Fucking mess

Fucking mess