(word vomit)

The age old virus, the lack of feeling
Oh practitioner of gossip
She turns for one last bow
Little girl
"Pathetic gucci little piggy"
A child really
Playing at being sexy
Searching for some salvation I guess
Always armed with an almost
Or a maybe
Trapped by the dependency
On playing the needy, over and over and over
Once
She stalked two lovers across the world to see if it was real
She thought it might've been the closest case she'd ever found
But it ended
Old ghosts came out to play
It seems
We've all got too many skeletons hidden away
And what good is the word love replayed and played and played
Well here's the truth
She has too many jealous words
And spiteful swings of the hips
For fairy tales
Her mascara's just too headstrong
To drip down her cheeks
Without command
She's got a lot of words
But nothing worth saying
Dishonest
Empty Pride

So sick of his "I love yous"
On nights like these they make her shake