The cradle of youth long has past; The creeping of ages to fear. Was that a thread of simmering dirt, A past renegade indiscretion? Regrets and resentments, Fears and friends, The past haunts me. Like the grim sickle of death The blades of fear loom in the dark, Stealing my breath, And tearing me apart. My fears are tearing me apart; Tearing me apart. My fears are tearing me apart; Tearing me apart. Though I've seen too much wear, I cannot cancel my existence. To this, I live by the moment, Trivia and terror my instant tea. Regrets and resentments, Fears and friends, The past haunts me. Like the grim sickle of death The blades of fear loom in the dark, Stealing my breath, And tearing me apart. My fears are tearing me apart; Tearing me apart. My fears are tearing me apart; Tearing me apart.
