“I’m not the the trash can. Not the last man at the finish line, now
I’m not the new kid on the block that you can just follow and push around
I’m not the fucking needle in the hay stack that you finally found.”
“Am I a part of the cure?
Am I part of the disease?”
At the curtain’s call,
It’s the last of all.
When the lights fade out,
All the sinners crawl.
So they dug your grave,
And the masquerade.
Will come calling out,
At the mess you made.
“High off her love, drunk from her hate;
It’s like I’m huffing paint and I love her the more I suffer, I suffocate.”
“Cause, darling, I’m a nightmare dressed like a daydream.”