I have thought of rose petals mostly perfect and pure
Then I thought of your petals
And the abuse they’ve been through Cut Up Angels, by The Used
Magically, I've turned tragedy, into melodies, over catchy things.
It comes so naturally, so smooth and casually.
That's why they call me king, of the music scene.
Lalalalala, lalalalala, lalalalala...
I hate the fact that I'm breathing. I don't promote anything
Everyone talks to you bout their problems or that you are beautiful etc. You always say you're fine and everything is great. But I swear it isn't. I swear you're not all right. But you're saying this to let everyone believe that everything is all right.
☣I'm a mess of cracked ribs and pain pills☣
“i’ll be your shoulder to cry on, but the drug that you die on”—i can be your painkiller
“i hope you can’t go anywhere without tasting me like blood in your mouth”—you get what you deserve
“Her choices were clear:
Keep on feeling this pain
Or stop living and never feel again”—
“She wasn’t cutting herself, she was drawing her path to her painful grave”—
“Her wrists were in the constant need of bleeding”—
Forever lost, trying to find a place where I can be happy.
♥
I thought I had myself all figured out...
But I spent my whole life holding myself down.
And it seems to be that sort of thing, I keep doing constantly; Addicted to the pain I cause myself.
