Downtrodden

You tread on me

You walk on my memories

But I don't feel a thing

And I can't

All these voices in my head

They have no occupants

A constant reminder that maybe it's all I am

But when it's said and done

We're overrun by those thoughts and remnants that we all keep inside

That we all keep inside of us

♪

And Heaven, if you hear me

Can I sell my soul, for streets of gold?

I know I'm not ready to go

♪

We coincide, with what's inside

To keep at bay, all those lies

And I can feel my heart is slipping

Out of my chest

And Heaven, if you hear me

Can I sell my soul, for streets of gold?

I know I'm not ready to go

♪

I can't feel the sun on my skin

I'm downtrodden, beaten, worn thin