I don't want to talk about it
I don't think you'd understand,
How things can get so fucked up
With such good, good intentions
And 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 forward
You get the same fucking push back.
And you got nowhere to go
So you found some place.
And you got nothing to say
You start lying.
Just what the fuck 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.