The walls are closing in
Punishing me for my sin
The air is getting thin
Fighting a battle I can't win
I can't hear a single thing
I can only feel my heart sting
Puppet on a string
Only bad can depression bring
Stuck between a rock and a hard place
Always afraid to show my face
Wish I could get out of the rat race
Or the past erase
I can't find a normal life
So tired of all this strife
Trying to resist the knife
Waiting for a shrouded figure
Carrying as Scythe.