Blood on porcelain white.
The signs are all there.
Pain, hunger, tears, anger.
No one knows.
No one cares.
Especially not them.
They pretend it doesn't exist.
Their denial only makes it hurt worse,
Makes the anger flare up,
Makes the pills in front of you that much more appetizing.
To take the blues ones or the whites?
In the end it doesn't matter.
Take them both.
And hope that the pain goes away.
Bored, stoned, sitting in your basement all alone, 'Cause your little conversation's got around, And look at what we all found out, Lookie here we all found out. That you have got a set of loose lips, Twisting stories all because you're jealous, Now I know exactly what you're all about, And this is what you're all about Girl, you're such a backstabber, Oh girl, you're such a shit talker, And everybody knows it, And everybody knows it. Your a bitch! your a bitch! I'm sick of your shit. Your a dick!! your a dick, Think your words are so slick, We can't get it right, Always gotta be a fight, Your heart is my pinata, So sayonara!!! Who's to know