I hate the fact I'm feeling br All this endless sickly dreaming br The rush, rush, rush br Of make-believing, br That never stops. br br I wish I'd just grow up already br Despising friends, despising me, br The push, push, push br Of immortality, br That never comes. br br Worthless, these moments, and br I'm ready to give up; give up already. br Sick, sick, sick, br I'm moving on, br But nothing moves. br br Please God, hear my cry, br Either bring me home or cleanse my eyes br Because these tears have made me dry br This sickly world is passing by, br Help, help, help br Me.