Nothing feels right,
But my fake smiles paint pictures like
I swear I can't stand this place
And whats becoming
Cut, cut, cut, cutting myself down to pieces.
Too hard
Empty fields move me so much more then rooms filled
Theres a voice in my head telling me why I
Wonder if I said the right things
Would this wound have
I've spent too much time
Picking up pieces I've left behind
For
Baby Britain feels the best
Floating over a sea of vodka
Separated
Pound my knuckles hard against the floor. My head against
He can't make sense of this,
he's just to normal
Don't confuse neediness for love,
Because obsession never lasts.
You're
Last call, lights on, pull your faces off the bar,
Do you know that every night I think of ways
I found myself within your room again,
I wonder where
I'm never waking up again so I'll never have to