A pen that\'s running out of ink
A crowded head struggling to think
A golden chain it\'s weakest link
His hopes and dreams have died
An eye without the sight to see
Mistakes that just won\'t let him be
His demons running wild and free
His Hopes and dreams have died
A garden overrun by weeds
The cops scratching around for leads
An open wound no longer bleeds
His hopes and dreams have died
A light still far too dull to shine
A fattened butcher ready swine
Ignored by vlad and Frankenstein
His hopes and dreams have died
A message that his inbox shows
Has dried the tears from cupid\'s bows
She\'s always kept him on his toes
His dreams have come to life