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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