Pain Unlike Another

An asphalt lot with an ever-present fog.
A tilting floor and a gaping sense of loss.
Where nobody knows my name,
I'll build my house and hide away.
That place will be the place I'm waiting for.

A sloping roof with a million leaking holes.
A sheet rock wall filled up with weeping mold.
Where everybody hates my name,
I'll build my shack and hide away.
Real hell will be the place I'm waiting for.

I've sunken to the bottom of this well.
I've give up completely in this hell.
Where people curse my awful face,
I'll set my roots and dig my grave.
Real pain unlike another still in store.