As I sit in this dark room
With nothing around but cruel coldness
I rise my lighter up and burn my dunhill
To make it the only thing shining in emptiness
What is the point of smiling?
If the only fake thing here is happiness
God, if this is the plane
Then I shall smoke this sickness
And feel it running through my lungs
Let my heart be lost in this mess
To be dead and spiritless
Haunted by loveless nights and sadness
As I stare at ashes of an ending sob story
Where are those people who called me moody?
You got ...