I see the edge and I'm getting closer. The stitches aren't holding the seams. I'm hitting bottom but sinking further. White picket death machines. I'm done feeling sorry. Headed south on a broken wing. This shoulder's getting colder. Broken bottles and broken dreams. Can't wake up from this nightmare. This guilt is killing me. What's to become of us? What's to become of me? Light a match and walk away. There's nothing left here so why stay? This place is dead to me. Life lived how could we stop it. Love lost on empty pockets. Pointing fingers in the wrong way. Captivated by the thought of sinking in. Eyes hung from hollow sockets. Bloodshot and out of solace. Keep calm and carry on. Pretend there's nothing wrong. Let's keep this clandestine. I know just what we need. Pack up these memories with a full frontal lobotomy. It's not what you knew it's what you can prove. I walk these streets with the diseased. The ghosts of who we are; the ones we'll never be. I wear these scars like antiseptic for my heart. These bruises will lose color. They're not who you are. Can't wake up from this nightmare. This guilt is killing me. What's to become of us? What's to become of me? Light a match and walk away. There's nothing left here so why stay? This place is dead to me. I walk these streets with the diseased. The ghosts of who we are; the ones we'll never be. I wear these scars like antiseptic for my heart. These bruises will lose color. They're not who you are. We felt the bottom drop as we stood and watched. View from a window looking straight across. Static silence drowning out the noise. This is the eulogy. We had a little hope 'till it was lost. Life lived love lost on a boulevard. Yes this is the eulogy of your friends and family. I walk these streets with the diseased. The ghosts of who we are; the ones we'll never be. I wear these scars like antiseptic for my heart. These bruises will lose color. They're not who you are.