if i could feel anythingit wouldn’t feel at all like thisif i could wake anywherei wouldn’t wake up at homeif i could hear anythingit would be your voice to sayyou should be you should be at home here nowi dont feel at home at allthis is where i will sitto pay for all the wrong i’ve donethis is where i will sleepto pay for all the wrong i’ve donethis is where i will waketo pay for all the wrong i’ve donethis is where i will thinkabout all the wrong i’ve donehope your funeral goes as plannedand everyone falls all around youbringing flowers to make a pillowfor your weary headi wont be there when you screamat all the voices all around yousaying the things you never ever want to hear abouti wont be there when you diea thousand deaths for just one lieit’s amazing how you stay awake at alli’ll be waiting way down hereand i’ll be waiting all alonewaiting for you waiting for youall the rats and spiderswill probably laeve me here alonejust like everyone they’ve got something betterthat they can doeverything that was to beforgotten us and will be goneeveryone that was to benow somehow all became a memory