|
false pretense |
|
a lack of resonance |
|
a derisive sentiment and confidence |
|
these bonds were always faked |
|
crafted for safety's sake |
|
but pasted wings and foil rings |
|
do not an angel make |
|
I see you've left me with your, your last word |
|
it's ringing |
|
with the noteless shrill of jealousy |
|
and the claims of imperfection |
|
and the crying out for the things that you deserve |
|
but you're voice is never audible beneath the anger |
|
in your words, it's ringing |
|
it's breaking me |
|
you can't belittle this |
|
this could change everything |
|
this one is mine to believe |
|
this is unparalelled grace that's like gravity |
|
a clarity i've never seen |
|
or ever heard |
|
since your last word |
|
I see you've left me with your, your last word |
|
it's ringing |
|
with the noteless shrill of jealousy |
|
and the claims of imperfection |
|
and the crying out for the things that you deserve |
|
but you're voice is never audible beneath the anger |
|
in your words, it's ringing |
|
it's breaking me . . . |
|
and the hottest words can cauterize |
|
and in anger there's just wasted time |
|
so your last word is just another I won't hear |
