| A flower for poor Rose, took the hope away
|
| A life full of lies. |
| Bad joke. |
| Thanks, Mom
|
| The bow breaks and the cradle falls
|
| The ugly seed has been sowed
|
| And as you know, it’s gravity that fucks us all, as pieces fall on top of us
|
| You’ve looked it up and looked it and just can’t deny what you think
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| Research it all you want
|
| Exam and deduce it whatever way it can
|
| It sucks living life on the wrong side of the ugly stick
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| On impact the lungs collapsed
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| Cut two holes so I can breathe
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| The ugly face voice took all hope away
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| A life based on lies. |
| Bad joke. |
| Thanks, Mom
|
| With a mug like this, you’re damn right I’m bitter
|
| The worst joke they could have told is indicating
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| That there might have been a sense of hope
|
| That looks aren’t everything; |
| that beauty is only skin deep;
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| That the world is not so critical and superficial;
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| And that people can be whatever they want to be
|
| Because based on your appearance at birth
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| You may have just lost that freedom
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| There was a time that I could live without a sense of pride and a sense of hope;
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| A sense of face and dignity;
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| And attempt to survive on meals full of lies
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| That time is not now |