I can't promise you life, neither can I promise myself to live.
I'll let my demons fly sky high.
The walls hold me gently, I mutter slightly, light everlasting, what shall I do?
And the demon in my head will stay.
And I know that if she does you'll stray.
Oh, how I need her more than ever now...
Because the hole's in my hands haven't quite formed yet, haven't quite settled in...