How many people in this world are like me?   From a distance we look much the same   Wondering if cold is the absence of something because   I've felt this forever      After a while you learn that everything stops   We're ageing and we all die alone   The constant tick tock of lifeless repeating irritates   We're all so fucking dead      Heartless means little to those who have   Caved chests, bound eyes and broken hands   I myself am fabricated   Has this meant nothing?