Another morning and everything looks the same.
Gloomy, empty faces hitting walls,
Lies dressed in shiny wrapping papers,
And you do nothing about it, sitting, counting falls.
Blaming everyone else (for the life you’re living)
Hiding behind a nickname and computer screen,
With your best friend – depression,
That puts your neck under the guillotine.
If you want to make this World a better place,
Start with yourself and make some change.
Can you handle yourself when you fall from grace,
Or you will find out that you are deranged.
Black stormy clouds above your head will never be gone,
You curse the day when you were born,
And you’re sure that nothing will ever be better for you,
That you are trapped, without any chance to make it through.