Something i wrote the other day, been doing a lot more poems than songs so here's one of them.

Cold chill:

Desire looked for me here
but i made it too easy
They don't treat it as important
the slow death of hopelessness
and the feeling of defeat
with sleep being the only escape.
Something went wrong.

This isn't taught
or talked of,
death by wanting out
or death by staying around.
The cold chill as time passes
in an empty room.
You had me at your username.

This was a little trite and cliche. Phrases like "the slow death of hopelessness" are so tired and dust-festered. It's so vaguely generic, surrounded by so many other vague and generic lines - you notice that no-one has any idea what the "this" you talk of is? Or who the "they" are. There is a difference between showing and telling, and a bigger one between either of those and not knowing at all. You've got to find the specific in the universal, or the universal in the specific. Try working on some imagery and see what putting together some pictures does for you.
reminds me of a long stressful or busy day. long hours during the course of the day. once the day has finally ended, thoughts process an lead to insanity. only sleep can cure it. if people couldnt sleep eventually the body and mind will shut down and death would be the only answer. life has a way to replenish itself.