Oh it's a blasphemy.
The act of God doesn't exist to me.
Vices, virtues - no one chooses for me.
Let me out of this boundary.
Put me out my misery.
All my wounds are all out here to see.
Such a pretty sight to see.
I'm nothing but a walking tragedy.
Oh a walking tragedy.
Another travesty.
I am screaming in agony.
Asking myself of how I used to be.
Wasted chances, scattered ashes of,
My time and my mind.
Maybe I'm starting to learn how,
my silhouette drifts apart from me.
And I know now,
I'm nothing but a walking tragedy.
Oh a walking tragedy.
Another travesty.