Who holds the bottle when she's troubled
Getting over her lost lover
It doesn't matter, she's not a keeper
You'd do better finding another
One without a child and a list of men gone through the bed
It doesn't matter that she looks like a model
Underneath her dyed hair is a dried skin you can't cover with a bouquet of flowers.

However, that's not your concern
You're a psychopath and that's just a way to pass time
To toy with her emotions, to break what's been broken
So she may never feel whole again
So she may never fill the hole in her heart
And that's your part in her life
That's what you've designed
Are you satisfied?

Thoughtless pry, the vicious mind beneath their shy figure
It tells a story about youth and curiosity, an unfortunate act within serious incident
It's a playground with castles made of gold, or so it appears under the mold that has taken appearance of something frightening for a bare eye to witness, that upon closer exposure will **** up your fortune inside those walls
It's a tall order from the middle to the bottom, sinking deeper as you go, and when you realize being rooted, the struggle will be futile, damages are irreversible
And like your coin, the soul is cremated alongside, to the pages of history where you'll be forgotten, only to be taken as an empty chest that once contained a treasure.

Sudden betrayal painting the scenery
Sandstorm out of nowhere
Winds are stronger, pointed at direction
Where least expected
Molding a new structure
A disaster
Work of an expert
Learned from experience not some textbook
Life's lesson often seen as strict mother
Fake emotions masked behind words like care and protect
Ready us up
For worse to come
No, it doesn't work like that
Issues which we shouldn't get used to
Coming from who you thought had loved you
Insecurities make you strong apparently
A fine parenting
I see how to survive, how to deceive
But tell me
Why do i feel so empty.