| I am out, for a walk
|
| And I will not be back until they’re staining my skin
|
| This is how I chose to talk with some violent hits
|
| Violent blossoms akin
|
| Every night I do walk, and if there, looking down not referring my chin
|
| This is how I chose to talk with some violent hits
|
| Violent blossoms akin
|
| That’s a way to truly be seen
|
| By furiously scheming in
|
| Forget the jewels
|
| I’m livid, friends are shutting out
|
| Fine on their own
|
| Blood on my cheeks, birds come by
|
| One of my stomps and they fly
|
| People politely smile to make sure I won’t come any closer
|
| I am out, for a walk
|
| And I will not be back until they’re staining my skin
|
| This is how I chose to talk with some violent hits
|
| Violent blossoms akin
|
| Every night I do walk, and if there, looking down not referring my chin
|
| This is how I chose to talk with some violent hits
|
| Violent blossoms akin
|
| Now
|
| A swollen eye is for days
|
| Of curious calm, snow in May
|
| Way better off on my own
|
| Since no one cries there’s no one to blame
|
| It hurts, I feel everything
|
| As my sense of self’s wearing thin
|
| Such pains can be a delight
|
| Far from when I could drown in my shame
|
| I am out, for a walk
|
| And I will not be back until they’re staining my skin
|
| This is how I chose to talk with some violent hits
|
| Violent blossoms akin
|
| Every night I do walk, and if there, looking down not referring my chin
|
| This is how I chose to talk with some violent hits
|
| Violent blossoms akin |