its funny, how we all go along with the game
im ok, doing great, smile its all good,
doing all the right things
while slowly we fade away inside
like locusts eating our souls
burning out, dieing slow
and nothing helps to stop the hurt
shuffling about, everythings fine
no, no, its not me its you
i couldn't be the one hurting
i have to be fine
see i smile all the time
masks and disguises
running around incognito
no one knows the truth
we're all in pain
we're all in shame
wave a gun
bullet the sky
nope i'm good
see i bleed like you
wait thats black, like oil
seeping out, stand my ground
no it can't be so
i have blood, surely i do
but what i see says otherwise
what i feel, it lies to me
what i know?
it has to be...
its all i have
all i know
all i understand
what left do i have if they go?
nothing
and thats why we hurt
we go around marauding as though we've got it
but obviously we don't
stick up the hand
wave it about
im sinking and can't get out
help me...
its not to much to ask...
is it?
No comments:
Post a Comment