Besedila: Death Is Not Glamorous. Wide Eyes. Foreground.

So sick of lying down, I'm tired of giving in and I apologize all too much but i haven't been living in a world where i could stand my ground, a life with shoes that fit, a room without a view of where i'd rather be without all the failure I always seem to see. but i'm not lying down this time not looking away, followed and faltered enough and now I'm finding my own way. I tried doing what felt right and it felt so right, now I'm on my own two feet. So wrap your bullshit up because I'm turning music up and staring through your arrogance and i'm not longer scared of hurting you because i know it's you or me and i'm not lying down for you, you never lied down for me, only to my face. Words spill quicker than water drips, the floor is wet with them, aggravated slips of the tongue. "i'm sick of all the times you've ruined my days" you let me down, "i don't need anyone else to place the blame." Well i don't need anyone else, i've got everything i need right here, so here's to locking up my door, i'm a swallowing the key. it's written between the lines