I have bottomed out and my future doesn't fit into my schedule
All booked up on depression and self-loathing
Buried deep in sleep from passing out, no time to plan ahead
Someone please tell me, why do i think this way?
Someone please tell me that this isn't the end of everything

A chemical imbalance? No The smell of my own vomit lost in my last tears
No more kissing clocks or throwing coins into wishing wells to try and fix the way I fucked myself

When it's finally here, it's never enough and when it's finally gone, it's never coming back
Somehow I fooled myself into believing that this would work out, that I wouldn't end up hurt