Tired yet you cannot sleep.
Overwhelmed and in too deep.
Twenty-five to life they said,
but death is so much quicker.
Deviled by the life you lead;
divided, conquered, gone to seed.
Staring down both barrels now,
it's time to say a prayer.
Making it until the end;
limb by limb, friend by friend.
Torn apart in either case:
a fate you wouldn't choose.
So dance your dance, drink your drink,
while voices cause you now to sink.
Down into oblivion,
you always find your way.
An endless march through broken glass,
and but one thing shall come to pass:
Twenty-five to life they said,
but death is so much quicker.