Wring out our hearts again. Fables nurtured by our own makers hands.
Save us from whats within. Did my plea come out, or was I just faking it?
I swear Im gonna be different. Just not in the way that you think I'll be. Frayed deception brings a blank identity of hopeless cares hoping just to care.
Paint me deception. If my words start to fall out from underneath. Your perceptions been spent. Even in squalor you can't even detect whats cheaper than grace, but the excuses we drown ourselves in everyday.
Grateful for the suffering. False martyrs proclaim they were the first to feel inside their coffin hearts and make it known that they were the last to be born again. What sweet hell is this?
When we close our eyes,is when we see the most.
Oh, how I wish we'd return to when we didn't know.
Take away the pain we were derived from.
Reinstate the blame we were designed from.