My head confuses the passer-by,
My head has thoughts that make me cry
My head kills slowly with just reason,
My head hates me, and my treason.
Never will my feelings reach my lips,
Never will I lose my failing grip,
Never will I sink deep in my desires,
Never will I close the inches, and fuel the growing fire.
Why must I always distort the perfect?
Why must these lips cause over-flowing regret?
Why must my bodys longing hate my denial?
Why must I refuse you, only to go home and miss you
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