Painting pictures of broken pasts, (putting one word over another) when colours never man, hopes and dreams in menageries, (never leaving a trace) now the shards fall on the ground, with our hopes and with our minds, (take it because I'm sick) gluing our hope back together, only to break another day,
I am not who you thought I was, I don't even know who the fuck I am seeing, I saw your picutre in a photograph and that's where I thought I dwelt, in you, make me like it, make me like myself, we're so imperfect, our struggles are imperfect,
you'll never take it thought I know you'll try, you'll never take it all, (all these imperfect things) this is a statement, a statement of self-respect.