Pressurize and squeeze the points at which we are weak force us to release our control with a pop. We let out an agonized groan, as our support beams slide out of their joints and grate against our buildings' bones. They keep testing our metal to see if it breaks. But even as our bodies shake we remain strong together. Our mettle was forged in fires so hot, so we will give it our best shot and fight them until we cannot.
It seems you've been struck with the meddler's touch. I can see it in the way you move. Constantly looking over your shoulder cringing when you see nothing not that you wanted to see something. It's a relief overshadowed by fear that someone will mess with emotions so dear. They'll make metal melt and become malleable. They'll do the same to you if you're valuable. Melt you down and mold you into something you're not they'll meddle with the metal and give you a medal for participating in their meddling and leave you to cool down when you were hot. You're right to be wary of strange sounds just be careful not to turn all the way around for they're not behind you, they never were the meddlers are in front of you messing with your future.
Now you're something that you were not. Now you're something that you were not.
They said it was normal, Another said it was tragic, Hearsays and whispers, Filled with bad endings, His trembling figure, Her hopeless stance, Yet everyone has a say, In this private dance.
People always has a say about everything. I hate it.
