Well do you want to talk about it?
Do you think you'd understand,
How things can get so f*cked up
with such good, such good intentions
And if, if roofs turn to sky, held by the gravity of nothing
An ironic and literal making of a bed.
You can walk away, but there is a reason to stay.
They make bad bad jokes, it's okay not to laugh.
And for every push foward, you get the same f*cking push back.
You had, you had nowhere to go
so you, so you found some place.
You had, you had nothing to say, you start lying.
What the f*ck were you thinking?
I'm not sorry... I'd do it all again.
All the lines between hate, love, and revenge
It's just dead, it's dead, it's dead
Just dead feelings.