When we begin to recycle titles,
Apathy with the past becomes apparent

When the heat rises up in my chest and I
Feel that anger again, I hate that it's so easy
To mistake it for love when there's no
Affection but only hatred for myself

All I can do now is turn up the volume
And wait it out

All I can do now is lean into my pity party,
Light the candles and close the shutters
Make love to the music