My head rests on my shoulders facing the sun
I struggle to walk
The burden of this guilt I hide from you is growing
You'll never know what it is
This is the kind of person that I am
This is the kind of person I've turned into
In time of song I am the Kamikaze dreamer
Clog my own throat; swallowed by color tortured slumber
It becomes harder to breathe or think clearly
Remorse Instigates an overkill of self loathing the older I get
So I'll rest my dead beat tongue, You'll dismiss me anyway