Gauge my eyes and cut my tongue in two
So I could see and talk like you
I wonder if I miss being me
When I’m asleep
I wonder if there is a light that can’t be seen
Could a life of love be enough
For both of us
And they keep telling me
It will all be fine in the end
That a life of pain is one well spent
Then they just embalm me in empathy
So crush my arms
Break my legs
I’ll suffer some more
Practice makes perfect
And in the end you won’t even recognise what I’ve become
At least we’ll both die under the same sun.
Freedom is a prison Comfortable yet full of inhibitions
Silver hair and one last breath
“The purpose of life is a silent death”
We’re all bastard children of a dying sun
Nothing matters to me.
In the end we al burn.
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