Queensway
Return To Dirt
Everyday is like an open wound I wake wishing I hadn't, hoping my body was consumed I'm sick of living life in my head if I feel trapped every time I lay alone in bed

Return to dirt
Bury my head
Return to dirt
Slash the wrist

I'm at war with my conciseness my mind is becoming a void just a shell a vacant lot turned black displaying every weakness and pressure crack

Everyday feels like constant abuse a viscous cycle I can't escape
I'm on the edge willing to throw it all in
Return to dirt by putting that nail in my coffin

Return to dirt
Bury my head
Return to dirt
Slash the wrist