Texty: Strung Out. An American Paradox. Kill Your Scene.

You weigh your sadness well, it fits the color of your world.
Though you have nothing to complain about,
there's always something wrong.
Break neck lies romanticize these empty headed alibies,
the drama you create amuses you and only you.
So take all these lies and be real again.
It's all not so bad.
I see you under there, hiding down underneath your eyes.
Show yourself, and kill your scene, you are your worst enemy.
Only doin' what you do cause you know someone is there to clap a hand.

Your conviction lies in words that paint the world your promise land.
And all you wanna be is somethin' I dont see.
Now all you gotta do is get the fuck away.
Push, before my thoughts pull me down.
All you are is what you've disdained.