a smell of rust.
a cloud of dust.
choking on pieces of the past that never went down,
chanting self-assurances to kill the voice around.
lets bring out our shiny toy guns
lets play "shoot each other"
and when you aim the gun at me,
i hope i will feel better.
for its my redemption in pretense
the joy of loss in its absence
for a change that never took place
for a truth that i'll never face.
chasing the noise for days on end,
looking inside through a piece of frosted glass,
blurring the images of the corners,
where the memoirs of a martyr still lasts.
let another minor lie be told,
no, lets get back everything we sold,
i've changed my mind another time,
lets just forget everything i wrote.
and all in all these words dont help,
they'll fool you for a day,
i learnt to live the day i died,
i hope you take my way.
yet dont tell me now what's right,
for you'll just waste your breath,
no one's sure, and i assure
it doesnt matter anymore.
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