Their eyes,
They see the other vibe of me,
See me walking around,
Each step as I make that sound,
Talking to my thoughts,
Misjudging and mistaking all those shots.
In the territory of emo,
He is, isn't he? We know.
Standing on the top,
Turning to the life thats a flop.
Everytime, they try to make sense, grant satisfaction.
Its just the longing for attention,
Talk to me, Give me space,
I need to open up, Look at my face,
Let me just explain it, Feel the pain and
Notice my bruises, Heal my stabs. My broken hand.
Don't just mock and walk away,
Watch my downfall, Take this tale left to say,
On through the generations,
A video don't add your annotations.
A cut and paste of my misery,
Remember me in your history,
The one with the wings,
The one to himself he sings,
Never could he just fly,
This is how he did die.
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