Quiet, I'm thinking it's kind of difficult   I can't hold up the conversation   it's difficult to sympathize   my need to resuscitate intensifies   the bolt thrust sharp right between my eyes   inside I crumble, perishing, intentionally, explicitly   there's nothing I can do   there's nothing I can do   nothing I can do      4, 3, 2, 1, boom explosions   deep inside my head   it feels as if a tank just fucking tore apart my insides   sometimes I wish that I was dead   it's me who's ping ponging back and forth   across this empty space   I'd rather be slammed by two   than to take anymore   so what's the use   so what's the use   (so what's the use?)      I never said I'd take you down there   never said I'd see it through   yet shit just happens   I'll never know what fucking hell has put me through   I guess that I deserve the beating   the kind that's not intentional   why must I do only things that please me   there's definately no escape   I'm caught   Oh No!   [I'm caught, Caught in the middle]   Oh No!   [I'm caught, Caught in the middle]   Oh Oh No!   [I'm caught, Caught in the middle]   Oh No!   [I'm caught, Caught in the middle]   Oh Oh No!   [I'm caught, Caught in the middle]   Oh No   [I'm caught, Caught in the middle]   Oh No!   [I'm caught, Caught in the middle]   Oh Oh No!   [I'm caught, Caught in the middle]