Paramore inspired.

I lay here, in this empty and deceptive room.

Paintings of him, of her;

 Why I bother, when it’s wrong.

But don’t you see I am lying here;

Don’t you see I am crying here?

Each breath is a death hazard, I fear to find out;

Because now I am all alone, sweating all your blood.

Still I continue to breathe for love tomorrow.

 

 

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