Listen up kid, you got nothing to prove, nothing to hate

You're just empty inside or filled with fears and regrets

Same shit

Pick yourself up, take the first shovel and dig in the dark, search for a spark

But you're stoned and tired and nothing you say can persist on your plan for tomorrow

If only the day would be 28 hours long so you can enjoy the precious 8 hours of sleep you're crying for

I dig in the dark and all I can see are faces of people that left a mark and all the other people I know

I'll never see again, 'cause I work in a place where people come and go like

I come and go in other people's lives and that's fine

But I'm stoned (fucked up!) and tired (by choice!) and (no will, no voice!)

Nothing I say can persist on (i'm killing off) my plan for tomorrow