Night or day, I'm still damned.

Are you happy now? Are you really? Of course you're not, why would you be? You're not you. You're not free. Free. Freedom. That's all you think about. Looking to the future when the present falls to shit. Your freedom is just an excuse, isn't it? Is it? But let's change the subject matter. A broken record is boring to listen to and your public awaits! Baying hounds. Crash. Crash your life just to see the wreckage. Just to see what it would be like. Fall to drugs and the women you dream about and the ones who are real. They hurt more. But why bother? You're going to die alone, aren't you? Are you? Be born alone, live with mannequins, die alone. What's so great about this, anyway? But you're alive right? Wrong. You're dead. Inside, I mean. Hard to smile every day when you're crying at home, or inside. Your only escape is music and you're not even that good. More of a torture, really. Really? You know what kills you. You're not an addictive personality. Not with drugs, drink, TV, power, fags, nothing. Well... Except women. But I'm right. Right? It's your blessing but it is most definitely your curse. They're all beautiful, wonderful, magnificent creatures. They are not appreciated enough. They are abused too much. Ignored. Slandered. Degraded. Everything. Make them all happy. Make them all smile. Who cares if they like you, as long as they like themselves? But you do. You care. Too much. Some more than others. Some you shouldn't and do. Some you should and don't. It's hard to be content when you're empty. It's hard to feel alive when you're dead. But it's their smiles... Gets you every time. Some more than others. Some that shouldn't and do. Some that should and don't. A few you think you've loved. You say you won't again. It's hard to say that lie. You're not a lire because it hurts when you do. But you do. It's hard to sleep when you're doomed. The sun brings day and day brings death. It'll be nice to die when you do. Maybe you'll meet God? Sometimes you like to pray:

'I pray to thee that in my sleep I will not dream, I will not speak but grant to me Eternal Peace and end my life to set me free.'

There it is. Freedom...

Are you happy? Are you really?

"No. And I haven't been for a very long time..."