The mortal coil has distorted It's tangled its shape into a noose Where my head will hang from it Flashbacks of memories I'd rather were aborted Surf to the top of my mind Because I'm not the kind of person to remember the good times The die and drift away just like my will to survive You say my threats are empty Well throw your fingers in the shape of a gun Shoot it I'll see a hole through your forehead I'll see a hole in your methods Zero serotonin levels Chemical imbalance Over indulgence I need a helping hand Will you lend it The mortal coil has distorted It's tangled its shape into a noose Where my head will hang from it Flashbacks of memories I'd rather were aborted Surf to the top of my mind Because I'm not the kind of person to remember the good times The die and drift away just like my will to survive Chemical imbalances in your body Have deprived you of the positive feelings you once had Your overindulgence has weighed on your mind holding you down At the bottom of this pit There is no one to help you Except your own worst enemy Yourself Accept your own worst enemy Yourself