'Tis but a fucking grey day for me now
One that I care not to meet

Wherefore is this grey fucking day,
That I should sit in here now?
Now of all times,
For all times have been now,
Until they became then

And it grates upon these very nerves,
That move my body amongst the living
As they seethe,
Shaking their anger throughout my bones as if to escape

Such a need to explode
For this time ticks slowly,
Through this, the greyest of all days
Waiting for now to become then

And it tears me apart,
But I cannot escape this terrible pain
Ripping, devouring the bones within my flesh
Draining my life's blood

And wherefore is this fucking grey day,
That I should sit in here again?

And what?
What fucking tale to tell now?
Of tears uncried?

Only the sweat of writhing agony

The eyes shed no tears
For a mind gone insane