Every fucking day
I have to deal with the pressure I put on myself, to outdo myself
But I can’t ask for help
I can’t admit I’m weak
I’m going back on my words, I’m going back on who I used to be

Every day I wage a war on myself because I’d rather die than let this win over me
I can’t let this win over me
How can I be expected to help anyone else
When I can’t even help myself?

Call me a hypocrite and I’ll be the first one to agree
I am no longer the prophet that I once claimed to be
I’m stuck between trying to find where I stand, and what it is I stand for
I am no one