Insomnia lifts me off of my feet
Baptizing me in the window light
Insomnia has this beautiful way of making being alone the perfect company
But I cannot count on getting rest
All I count are the reasons to stay awake
I've become a pair of tired eyes
And scorched imprints of illusory resolve
It's getting hard to suppress the memories
Everything floods back, now I'm so self aware
But I am learning that letting go should be
Beautiful
Let's see how much I can paint
With some words that are contrite
Still I guess we have to die inside before we can live outside
That's such a young face for such an exhausted soul
I think I need to find acceptance before my words convey rest
Is it better to end? Or is it better to mend?
And I'm still searching for my bed of admittance (Acceptance, admittance)
It's getting hard to suppress the memories
Everything floods back, now I'm so self aware
But I am learning that letting go should be
Beautiful
Is it better to end?
Or is it better to mend?
Is it better to end?
Or is it better to mend?
Just let me go inside my head
Help me find acceptance.
It's getting hard to suppress the memories
Everything floods back, now I'm so self aware
But I am learning that letting go should be
Beautiful