| Going through |
| We could learn to see, but boy mean the mirror in you |
| I have to live in the kind shame you hide. I’m dressed of a reflection of what |
| you’ve denied |
| Happy to do things, you never try. I keep telling them, how much you’ve lied |
| Try living in the part of town, they call the poor side |
| A step away from homeless-ness, a home made of death, and piss. Gotta get away |
| from this |
| Its not vintage, you’re paying to squat. With any luck, you might get shot |
| I’m stranged, my life is shit, you’re tlling me, to deal with it |
| Your mask is torn, to escape of being reborn |
| Get it done, the voices warn. Thought I died, you could’ve sworn |
| So I listen, voices without restriction. Your pain is based on, fiction |
| You withheld, everything that you knew, went through with every conclusion I |
| drew |
| Isn’t it bizarre, accuse me of everything you are |
| Someone needs to make you pay your dues, its looking like, I have nothing to |
| lose |
| Can make choices under the die or live, hearing voices that will never forgive |
| I have no reason to press rewind, I was never one of the kind |