I had a feeling (that was only once) that my life had meaning. But that doesn't mean too much.
I was going places then I never left.
Reciting phrases that I never meant.

I found myself then I threw it away.
Living in hell is a lot like today.
I changed my mind (but I can't spare change) and what I was trying to find, but it still found me.
I need room to breathe.
Can you give that to me?

Begin descension.
Begin the end.