Napolju

Tired, sick, and feeling so weak,
no good, desperate, kinda lost in a dream,
outside the little birds
are falling like seeds,
if they could see me.
Broken, defeated, feeling half-dead,
fever's got me shaking, my voice is unsteady,
Trams are rolling by,
water's rising high,
before it drowns me.
Eye to eye with my own misery,
I justify myself and hate everything,
talk about love
usually just drags me down,
I stay quiet and it gnaws at me.
And outside there's nothing more
except warm summer rain,
and outside the leaves are rustling,
it seems like it's pouring down.