That little annoying devil is whispering in my ear today,

"You are worthless, you are worthless, you are worthless.

It'll be the end of the world, and it's all your fault."

And I can't help but to believe him.

But pretending that I don't feel this way,

is so much simpler than change.

My friends...

they don't know, they can't know,

That I'll be the cause of the end.

I don't want to see the light in their eyes go dim.

I've known betrayal,

I don't want to be the cause.

Pain has been my long-standing company.

I don't want to introduce my friend's to misery.

I can't help but to think,

If I'm not here, then the end will never come to pass.

Could I pretend that that day wouldn't be my last?

I have powers, weapons, on my side.

It'd be so easy to just end me now,

Little part of my is screaming,

"Yes, do it, I want to die."

Because living I know I'll have to

watch them all pass away

one day, anyhow.

I'm not afraid to stand on the brinks of hell.

Turn around and wish the living farewell.

I used to dream about different worlds.

Now I just dream about the end of mine.