you read, you know you're left. you lose your people... no, your person.
you walk out from the door who always keep your secret safe.
but the war outside the window is too hard to fight by yourself.
and you die if you're inside.
you force yourself to face the reality that your just that psycho.
sometimes, the memories of having all the soldiers aren't enough to block the sun.
finally, you change the key, you're locked outside.
all you want is just stand there still, plug your earphone and listen to those beautiful words.
stand still over there, right there, there.
you dropped your chuckles, somewhere. can you find it? is it easy?
you start to make a whole lots of ifs.
you prepare some movies lines to be quoted as your answer.
but unfortunately, the question never comes out.
your head begins to make many excuses.
that dead-souled glass slipped away from your loose fingers.
what a wreck, goddamn ruckus.
you ain't be able to speak your alibis up.
you accept all the accusations, openly.
you know you don't even have the right to still be here.
you won't get up from those imaginary incidents.
you made those up, you wanted to be in it, still here.
no one can tell, because no one has a clue.
you approach a clown, while you have clownphobia.
you're hundred faces, you're evil, you're mess.
you keep telling yourself that you build a wall.
but you're just putting two bricks on.
you say you don't make a bridge.
but you keep arranging the knots.
they say good things take time, how long?
she said you wouldn't get your karma.
she said you did the right thing.
hello sour salt, you're a stranger already.
bittersugar made it, bittersugar don't wanna hit too hard, grey-painted car is running in maximum speed, and it is approaching it.
before it dies, it will turn to the right, right path.
and stand still there.