The Good Depression - Burn Out

Nervously watching always
So much pressure, it's holding me down

Every time I strike a match
It quickly burns out
All I wanted was the chance
To watch it burn

Stop feeding on the lies they sell
Just cause you're hooked on the taste and smell
That left ashes in my mouth
Dressed to kill

The dirt slips through my fingertips
And scatters in the wind
I don't know where to begin
But I'm just trying to start again