In the end what's left
Won't be your feathered hair or
My life is a warzone.
My life is a mess.
This world
If what it boils down to / Is that "you're
Hate comes in whispers, not angry yells.
Creeping through your
It's all so ironic the things that you think
You preface
Try to wash it all away
You can't remove the
I can't see past your slick veneers.
Your empty eyes,
You are who you fuck, or so I am told
I used to believe
That you and me
Were gonna shimmer
Like our
Wrap your arms around me.
I'm fucking freezing, and I just
Celluloid heroes are a fucking fraud
Built up legends to
The only thing worse
Than losing the one thing that you
Thank god we've got heroes like you,
who bravely stride forward
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