I never understood why it felt so cool,
To be wearing black and fake feeling blue,
'Cause we all learned hard lessons from adolescence,
We sang sticks and stones to heal broken bones,
But the worst things come from your own sick guts,
Not those short-lived breaks or those shallow cuts.

There are scars you wear like badges,
There are scars you want to hide,
There's a broadsword cutting up your fucking insides,
And this song is for the ones who survive.

You think about the friends who extended their hands out to you,
The way you feel so ashamed just for causing them to,
The bathroom door that you lock behind you,
Raise your knees to your face, let the dark remind you.
You feel fucked and you probably are fucked.
But I'm here at least, I won't insist on speaking,
I will douse this house in gasoline if you wanna strike your match and burn it clean.

You wanna trade this pain for one more mild,
Like the arm you broke when you were a child,
'Cause the break that really makes you hurt,
Is the one you take on your own at work,
Where your thoughts swell up and your nerves start screaming,
Daily tasks have lost all meaning,
The folks you know seem to come and go but you are not alone.
No, you are not alone.