I look at these pieces of life In my hands I wonder where they came from And where I can put them Every piece I look at seems Sharper than the one before Nothing's perfectly clear Inside me, all of this screams Unable to be freed Again I gze at these pieces In my hand, and they all seem So fucking useless Like fate has already spoken what My last day is to be I'm not gonna fight it I can't any more I fell down and never got up again