Fetal Position -

Self-destructing

First-class loser with a second-rate life

Down to nothing

Locked away in hiding won’t set it right

Held tightly — a cradle of tension

So tightly — in fetal position

Exhausted — a hollow condition

So lonely, so lonely

You know that they’re all wanting something

A losers' game but no one said it was fair

Too much to deal with too much to keep from screaming

Screams that never reach the ears of one who’d care

Overload inside the mind of an infant

Lying helpless just a victim of luck

Mass confusion floods the soul in an instant

Drunk with hatred and won’t get the hell up