I’ve a demon in the mirror
He copies what I do
Projecting a persona
With the opposite of true
Following my fancy
Stuck to me like glue
But we still have our differences
I’ll tell you just a few

If I should raise my right hand – He copies with the left
And when I seek to borrow – He likes to call it theft
If I am feeling confident – He tells me I’m a mess
When I’ve a guilty conscience though – He begs me to confess
I try to make him beautiful – He only sees the fault
When tears stain my cheek – He sees just water mixed with salt
In the surface of my coffee – He tries to catch my eye
If I should tell a noble truth – He’d taint it with a lie

In every polished surface and in every pane of glass
I see him disapprove in every window which we pass
But though he mocks me daily, I find no cause to care
So I only seek his counsel when I stop to brush my hair

WIFE and servant are the same,
But only differ in the name :
For when that fatal knot is ty'd,
Which nothing, nothing can divide :
When she the word obey has said,
And man by law supreme has made,
Then all that's kind is laid aside,
And nothing left but state and pride :
Fierce as an eastern prince he grows,
And all his innate rigour shows :
Then but to look, to laugh, or speak,
Will the nuptial contract break.
Like mutes, she signs alone must make,
And never any freedom take :
But still be govern'd by a nod,
And fear her husband as a God :
Him still must serve, him still obey,
And nothing act, and nothing say,
But what her haughty lord thinks fit,
Who with the power, has all the wit.
Then shun, oh ! shun that wretched state,
And all the fawning flatt'rers hate :
Value yourselves, and men despise :
You must be proud, if you'll be wise.

I'm withering away,
I'm vulnerable,
my legs are weak and I can barely speak.

I'm wandering astray,
I'm on the run,
the feelings inside are burning me alive.

It's tearing me apart,
to see you depart,
to see you walk away,
to see you leave me.

I hold onto the hope,
that you will come back,
but hope won't hold back,
hope won't hold back.

I'm burning up inside,
I'm half alive,
and this fire won't be going out anytime soon.
I am a fool,
for thinking that you will be waiting too.

And it burns a hole in my heart,
to know you don't care.
It eats me alive,
and I know you don't care.

But I hold onto the hope,
that you will come back,
but hope won't hold back,
hope won't hold back.

I'm holding into hope,
but hope won't hold back.

We think death is romantic
Because the same lilies our ex bought us
On our first date are neatly draped
Over the caskets as decoration
(But there are no flowers in our arms
As we lie alone inside)

We think death is liberating
Because we imagine the shackles
Of society falling off our wrists and ankles
As we fly to a better place
(But in reality
We are locked in a prison
Beneath six feet of dirt)

We think death is infinite
Because we can never return
To the people who harmed us
And the house that was never a home
(But our bodies are not eternal
As they slowly decompose
Back to nature in the ground)

What we fail to realize is that
Life is romantic, liberating, and infinite

Romantic in the form of a sunrise
Climbing over a calm sea,
Liberating in the form of birds
Traveling to anywhere they please,
Infinite in the form of flowers,
Dying and regrowing in the spring

So on the day that you make your decision,
To end your (romantic, liberating,
And infinite) life I beg you to reconsider,
Because you may already have exactly
What you are looking for.