coal in the shape of toys, naughty is in disguise of nice, leaving my thoughts morally questionable
a walking bank of changing personalities, controlled by the voices of greed and envy
never the same with a single person, i own more masks then i do clothes
trapped in a life manipulating others for personal gain and hurting those who i let get close
i want to change, i want to fit in, i want to be normal, i want to be good
i try to do better, i try to change my ways
the only change is experience. I’ve mastered my game
have i dug my hole too deep
am i lost in my own trap
is there no turning back
screaming for help, i beg to right what was wronged
its too late for apologies, and forgiveness has been forgotten
i fear help is a lost cause,
for who can trust the boy who cried wolf?