Send a candle up into the heights of the mountain paradise.
A memory for the swallowed emotions I ate back in my cries.
I can’t seem to put my finger on it, but it’s reminiscent of a time inside when I let you in way too deep than I originally planned.
I’m fighting with the struggle of the words and eloquence.
You’ll suffer from the over-exposure to your audience.
A gift and a weapon, a use to make you drown in your own bed.
A kiss and a lie, a hope you cry and lie down in your own head.
I’ll be the medicine to your worst sacred nightmares,
every fear you have, I swear that I’ll be right there.
Get away from the mirror shards; adding seven years won’t help you much.
And I’ll be so macabre that you won’t understand,
I’m the loneliest kid that you’ll ever find.