These eyes are filled with pesticide
And tonight, I'm tired of watching you die
Drink a bitter cup
To your fucked up luck
This love isn't going well
You are hollow, I am a shell
Don't try and stop me
From being carefree
I'm not your plaything
But don't complain
You're still something
That won't feel pain
(You won't feel pain)
April 13, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment