Restless

Sometimes it seems this pain is all that I’ll ever know.
The endless years on earth and not a single place that feels like home.
Between the guilty eyes, the crooked tongues and lies
I’ve grown accustomed to being alone.
Born and raised to see this world’s demise.
I find myself — six feet deep every time that I close my eyes.
Every day — another struggle to survive.
Forever out of step, left with the same strain — trying to last another night.
Promise to wake me when I can find peace after all the desperate days.
No time can cure the weight of this world.
I won’t open my eyes to face their pain and wicked ways.
We’re all destined to suffer, framed by life, cursed by birth.
No time can cure the weight of the world — weight of the world.