“When I come home at the end of the day, everything is just where I left it… No one has called, nothing has changed, everything is just how I left it… I haven’t spoken a word in days, except for cursing the noise in the hall… I haven’t spoken a word in days, to anyone else at all… And so, as I go, I’ll leave my body for you… And so, as I go, don’t feel sorry for me For life is the sacrifice, before you die And so as I go, I’ll leave my body for you…to…see… A bed all alone in the bedroom A vacant space where a table should be Some posters on the walls The bathroom mirror covered in spit I have made such desperate attempts to make this a nice place to live… And I have failed, for I have tried to fill this dead empty space with a life! All this time on my hands, And I have no where to go, Haunted by the distractions of living alone I hope you’d be the first one to find me After I’d concluded the past behind me So hold your hands, over your mouth And run to tell the others…”
— Woods of Ypres, Distractions of Living Alone
