Picked bone dry from the hand that feeds
You fucking try but at the end of the day, he's not the one who bleeds
Bone dry but the scar's still deep
I will not be a slave, to what kills me

You do not give what you get
You only take and fucking quit
I feel sick
So take the toll on myself
Until the blood gets too thick

Letters to my address
They must've missed the purpose
They're not your friends
You wrote them
You're no ones friend
You let everyone down

Grown tired of the face you're making at me

I think I figured it out

Still here, like a pest when you breathe
And slam the door right in my face when you leave
Fuck off if you think you'll ever change me
Still colder from the day that you became me

Poor, but the right is whats deserved

I'll make your memories wither from my bones

---

Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.