sketched out like a painting by Piccasso
perfectly screwed up yet so great
reminds me of a time long ago
when our lives werent at stake
your face is perfectly aligned
yet your brain is jagged like a rock
and you pray for the right time
to make your move just to block
in the blink of an eye, all is betrayed
and your moto is now turned to kill
and you let me down i am now decayed
a priceless substitute of what you have at your will
you might come to your sences someday
while youre lying on your deathbed
dying at a very young age
and the guilt is finally in your head
and with the last breath you take
and the last words you speak
you break down, youre so pathetically fake
you kiss me...and say youre sorry
