I cried every Sunday night for a year

Got to the point I didn't know what was real

I'd spend the days before getting high, drinking beer

I'd wake up all alone in my bed with the fear

You couldn't walk me down

You couldn't make it okay

And for that

I feel bad to this day

I'd hang on to every word from the voice in my head

He'd tell me I was a fool and was better off dead

Psychosis runs in my genes I thought that this was the end

I didn't realize that our perception with time splinters off like branches bend

That voice was mine all along

It's breath was foul to taste

It's words were sharp as fangs

It laid my smile to waste

You couldn't walk me down

You couldn't make it okay

And I feel bad to this day

All I could do was cry

Couldn't tell you why

The more you'd pry

The more I'd hide

All I could do was cry

Couldn't tell you why

Cause it's probably a lie

I've told myself a thousand times