amazing grace. . how sweet the sound of silence. . . . . inwards now broken. . toward this pounding of a loud heart. dull faces establish themselves around the coldest fences i seek a token of peace. . of the higher ground the new dawn. . renders me senseless. . .
You try to tell me sweet little lies I can see it through your eyes You want to do good Like a good girl should It's not your fault you were brought up bad You bury your head in the sand Saying that it never touched your hand But the dirt is still cold And your soul is still sold It's not your fault you were brought up bad If you see the world through different tints All you have to do it blame your parents That's how it works You say with a smirk It's not your fault you were brought up bad
If you want to be known you have to put on a show And cover your thoughts till your stomachs in knots Then you realize that your soul dies When you don't express your feelings