They hurt, they sting, they crash, they clang, all of them inside my brain.
They will not stop, they will not cease, oh Lord please help I'm falling in too deep.
I will surely drown in all this rain; I'm sliding and slipping like a runaway train.
I cannot move I cannot breathe, for I am a statue bent down on one knee.
My fine copper finish starts to tarnish and build up dust,
The only hope I have now is a rag to polish away my rust.
In the end it isn't really rust you see, it's all the negative things said and done to me.
