Sick, But Not In The Good Way

There's little hope for me
Standing here, pretending to be happy
As the very thought of living sends me deeper into atrophy
I'm sick of wasting time
I think I might be sick
But not in the good way

I'm driving with my eyes closed
Would you take the wheel?
Or would you let me die slow
To show me how it feels?
It would be so real
Yeah but that was just a dream
Then I'd catch you by the heels
But it's never what it seems
Tell me where were you
When I was sleeping in the car?
Came along way but yet I'm still so far
And I was reaching for you like you were still there
I remember leaving but I can't remember where

I'm sick of walking
My legs are growing tired
I'm sick of talking
'Cause you talk just like a liar

And there's little hope for me
Standing here, pretending to be happy
As the very thought of living sends me deeper into atrophy
I'm sick of wasting time
I think I might be sick
But not in the good way