Even the moments are dying
while they seem neverending
When even self irony ceases
and life's a neverending joke

and the point repeats itself
I cared so much I can't care no more
bored to death the laughter dies within
my throught, my throught
self sentence by my own sword

Everyone but me
kill a corpse in its infancy
Everyone but me

Even the effort seems worthless
And even these lines are pointless
Why shall I write about something
that will never change

just remember my sayings
and be aware of the threat
The threat of disapointment
that tears you apart

So kill me now so you can spare your energy
to convince me that one day this will all be history
I'm sick of crying, I'm sick of expressing myself
As there are no such words to state my self pity

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