How can I tell others to ignore those voices when I haven’t banished mine, 

I’m guilty of encouraging the pain, 

Of living in darkness when I should’ve embraced the light,

Before it’s too late, I want to help, 

Make myself useful to help others, 

Even though I can’t help myself. 

These trains, I sometimes long they never arrive at their destination,

I am a dreamer in these carriages and dead when I see the world without music.

It doesn’t feel right to distance myself so much, with this laughter,

When that thought hangs on, clings to me, and I never forget what I must face, 

Is it me, is it the people, is it the place?

Is it my failure to recognise what I have now, things that I’ll lose, 

Like that rose fence, and those wooden doors, 

The candles burning at night, and the films we watched, 

It’s all gone, and I fear that I don’t have the strength to relive a dream so gone, so dead.   

When no one cares, forgive me Lord, for my faults, my thoughts, 

But I want to speak the truth.