Hanging on

I wish times could be what they used to be,

Filled with travels and lounging away the day.

Those are the days and nights I will cherish,

Now and forever.

Hanging on,

Hanging on,

My fingertips are beginning to bleed.

The days and nights are not what they once were,

Nothing but old memories, but ghosts of the past.

Never more.

The chains of sorrow wrap around my heart,

Only to grow tighter, squeezing it between rusty links.

Hanging on,

Hanging on,

My fingertips are beginning to bleed.

Your eyes no longer have the spark of life,

Your voice no longer has that cheerful tone,

Your lips have lost its smile.

My heart is breaking, maybe even dying.

The gears of time beat me down.

Hanging on,

Hanging on,

My fingertips are beginning to bleed.

I only wish to see the glow in your eyes,

That glow that could banish even the darkest of days.

Hanging from the edge of hope,

I clutch with all my might, desperate to hang on.

My fingertips are beginning to bleed.

Despite the pain, I must, I will, hold on.

I fear the darkness shadowing me,

Beckoning me towards an vast, endless void,

In which there is no return.

To only hear you laugh again,

Is my lifeline, my salvation.

Show me the way home,

Away from this nightmare.