Black Din کے بول

It all started by questioning our worth A dream shattered by doubt I ended one life to start another But I couldn’t accept the ending We’re all the same kind of murderers here Killing our better selves, nurturing fear Getting off on the pain A heart full of need A lust for death Anaesthetized but still aware That I might swallow my tongue And if I get too numb to care Then I will eat my gun We’re all the same kind of murderers here Cheating on suicide Until we miss her and want her again She may not forgive, but she gives in A black din Home again I dug my grave around ten years back I often go there to relax Lying there the noise fades away One of these days I'll just stay And sleep But not today Not until I see the ending There’s always at least one piece of shit Who wants nothing more than to see you fail Death is a release from all their resentment But life is a wire around their throat