Seems like I'm always here within. Looking through this hole I found.
I can feel it settling inside, where the river eats my hair.
Winter come alive for me, and then I could grow my eyes again.
Feels like I'm wearing thin within. Becoming less all the time.
I know someone who's drowning now, growing cold on dirty ground.
Entertaining my hate stare, I could move, but I don't care.
And if you threw it all away, I wouldn't miss it.
If you killed the world today, I wouldn't miss it.
Look around my ugly face, I wouldn't miss it.
Right here in this lonely place, I wouldn't miss it.
So I die everyday, sinking into nothing like the sun.
And if I could grow my wings again, I would shed all my skin.