I've got one simple statement to make
(I am never going back 'cause I am finally awake)
I've reached my limit now and its all I can take
I've been living in a bubble whilst the trouble amounts
(wasted seconds, wasted minutes tasted empty and dry)
I was looking in a mirror thinking "I don't know who
you are" could it be this is all I am?

Every single day I wasted I am never getting back,
but there is not a single thing that I can do about it
Every little drink that didn't satisfy me I cant unsink
but now I think it's time to move on and prove myself wrong

I was living in a secret tragic fiction I was never
a best selling just a shelf dweller I had to kill the
author of my addictions I'm rewriting every word
I am the story teller I cannot blame her I can only
blame myself for her choice
(she was crying to me why did I not hear her sweet voice?)
If I find a glimmer of hope I know that I will rejoice

Could it be this is all I am?
Wont you turn my pages I've got so much more to tell
now that I've been through hell I wish to open all of the cages