Patterns in the carpet I was sinking Into the floor I was dreaming of pavement and wet skin Ah-ah But I didn't know what was coming. Patterns in my brain I was sinking Into a hole I was bleeding out. Smashing my head against the cabinets, It left a bruise I hoped you'd notice. And I tried so hard to carve our names Into that tree at the cemetery But the knife slipped. And I cut myself pretty deep, Paused for a second and watched as it started to bleed. But now there's no scar To remind me how it felt when I was alive. Now I'm spending my time pretending I'm fine. But I've got secret footage of the future that says otherwise.