The other side of this medal is colder
not like it should. I had it all figured
out, the room always got much bigger,
now I'm saying I am not crying, smolder

away, burn till it's gone. Stages, now
I'm fighting tears, could have seen it
coming, saw it coming, lied to myself.

It's my own **** fault. By opening the
vault that is my passion and lending her a key,
it was not returned, thrown away and rejected.

I tried to make her happy, tried to neglect and
love her imperfections, many, succeeded, needless
to say, I was in love, she wasn't.