I'm not left with many choices,
When I can't close my eyes,
Because the shadows come.
And I can't leave my eyes open,
Because then the memories come.
There is no suit of armor
That protects from flashbacks.

There really is nothing in between,
Open and shut.
It's one or the other,
That's all I've got.
No wonder I just want,
To obliterate the mind,
That feeds me this shit.
There is no suit of armor,
That protects from memories.

I endure it all day,
Get high at night,
Sleep a mere few hours,
Then start all over again.
No wonder I'm so fucking tired,
And need to sleep again,
In the light,
And even that's a challenge.
The slightest noise - or movement,
Sends me bolt upright,
Nearly through the ceiling.

- John