[Gallagher]

Panic

Every day,
It's always the same.
That same nag.
That same urge.
That same feeling.

I'm sick of it.
I'm tired, and I'm sick.
I can't take it.

It's easy to be.
God knows, it's easy.
Everyone does it.
It's nothing special.
You're nothing special.

It's hard to be good.
No one notices when you are,
But it's damn hard to do.

Every evening,
It eats away at me.
I do what I think is right,
But what do I hear?
"Why are you so cruel?"

If only they knew what they did.
I'll always forgive them,
Because I'll always hate myself.