Woe, woe, woe – woe is my foe
Creature from hell, down from bellow

Yo, yo, yo – yo I’ve fallen low
Up and down, the string of sorrow

No, no, no – no I cannot grow
There is so much more that I doth not know

I want to run and run and never look back
Turn the switch and change the track
I’m aboard the train to nowhere, and a ticket I lack
Carrying only a guitar and big ass rucksack

Down, down, down…

When the clown decides to frown
It’s time to skip town
And elsewhere, take the crown

Where is the point?
There is the point.
It’s over there,
Don’t pull out your hair.
But beware…
The point is a lie!
An illusion of the eye,
Constructed on the fly.
To get you to try and try…
But why?

The end is nigh
In constant verge of catastrophe
Causing my muscles to atrophy
Can’t go on much longer
Need to change, become stronger
Stunted growth, not enough wonga

Fear of the unknown
Forever chasing a loan
To depression I am prone
Woe is me
I am my own foe
That shits ghastly bro
It’s time to finally say no