I once spoke to a dead man
stuck, with nowhere to go
lost in the house he used
to call home
the empty walls
of peeled paint
held him with his
memories in chains

Used to be an average guy
he had a family
he had a life
but they're long gone now
and Mr. Lonely is here to stay

Trapped inside his own mind
unable to fuel his desires
so when he gave in
he gave in hard
a little more
went a little bit too far

Burned the ones that
cared the most
when he looked
around
they were gone
like smoke
and standing in
the remains and ash
it was him holding
the match

So he got in his car
and headed to
nowhere
went for a drive
with nobody by his side
because with nobody
meant that nobody
could hurt him

Alone he drowned
in the liquor he drank
gone in an apartment
they didn't find him for two days

I spoke to a dead man
but he was long gone
from the hollowed out eyes
to the way that his gaunt
face reflected the
despair in his words
killing him long before the
alcohol did

Repeating to himself
"With nobody, nobody can hurt you"