These hands are broken and calloused
But nobody seems to notice
And you yelled it into permanence
Have you ever come to hate the very thing
That you helped to create?
Cause that's how I feel everyday
I am expendable, but I guess that's just the way things go
I'm a ghost in foreign postal codes losing
Faith in what brings you hope

On the outside looking in
Or on the inside sitting in the corner. It's all the same to me
I got my hopes up. I thought I was out of the shadows
But I'm buried six feet underneath what
I worked four years to achieve
While they were sleeping
While you were sleeping
I am expendable, but I guess that's just the way things go
I'm a ghost in foreign postal codes
Losing faith in what brings you hope

Home alone where all of my doubts are born
Home alone where all of my fears are formed
I'm sick and tired of hating who I've become
It's getting worse every day I spend home alone
Writing myself to death stands in place of sleep
I am an unlocked door and you're a fucking thief
You could hear me out, but why would you care?
No, why would you care at all?