I Hate Your Guts, Sunday

Lost transmissions sent
straight from my heart
choked to death by my tongue

I'm drowning out distress signals with guilt
I'm not the one you'll come to trust until...

Sunday, where did you come from? Someday, where did you go? I waste my time on pointless things that tear apart my skull

I'm drowning out distress signals with guilt?
A pessimist with optimistic intent

Hurts to wake up, plans to break off people to ignore
I plan to take up where i left off Burning hopes in hell