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Description
mistake me not, mistake not the self-pity
the self-pity has long turned to loathing
I feel for myself this strange urge of homicide
wishing I was someone else but me
I am sick and tired of starry nights that bare my soul
I am sick and tired of the day that hides my disease
I hold to life, but what's life I'll never know
I am sick and tired of myself, I hope you are of me
My false existence, and my false hopes
All my pretences, and my disgrace
My lying tongue wags again in your face
I am tired of wishing you around the corner
I walk about again in my self-centred daze
I hold myself again on a pedestal
made of dreams and lies and a smoky haze
I wish I could but I never will
I am too afraid
the self-pity has long turned to loathing
I feel for myself this strange urge of homicide
wishing I was someone else but me
I am sick and tired of starry nights that bare my soul
I am sick and tired of the day that hides my disease
I hold to life, but what's life I'll never know
I am sick and tired of myself, I hope you are of me
My false existence, and my false hopes
All my pretences, and my disgrace
My lying tongue wags again in your face
I am tired of wishing you around the corner
I walk about again in my self-centred daze
I hold myself again on a pedestal
made of dreams and lies and a smoky haze
I wish I could but I never will
I am too afraid
Image size
1278x1022px 89.31 KB
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Comments11
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I wish I could but I never will
Indeed!
Indeed!