Found in a corner woth blood shot eyes,
hearing the childrens joyfull crys,
Fealing lost in a croud,
Everyone fealing so proud.

This makes me fear,
this makes me hear,
All of the voices in my head,
this makes me wish I were dead.

They tell me to come,
You find your self to be numb,
loseing yourself all over again,
the hole room starts to spin,
But it is to late,
It have become what i hate,

This makes me fear,
this makes me hear,
All of the voices in my head,
this makes me wish I were dead.

Time is up it is over,
I make my way home,
Soon another one has come,
which makes me feal numb.