Never before has death sounded so great,
I sit as I wait for something to happen,
The dark seems to echo with the ideas I contemplate,
Looking for answers I surely cannot find while the depths of wasted time grasp my soul,
It’s cold in this room where I ponder my mistakes as I simply sit and wait,
Although there is no goosebumps on my skin,
In actuality the temp is merely sixty eight,
Never before has death sounded so great.