Description
People are running from the truth Refusing to do anything that makes them see me and you Joking about us is fine But the minute they see our scars They act as if we all died No need to pull a string to see if they Have something to give they are still searching, but using different Tools, And they will never hesitate to Lie To You Hide your hands for fear of someone shaking them Sit in your little groups with your possessive friends You make jokes about suicide but become faint When I mention That I almost died It's like mocking ghosts when you know their there Someone will always search them eventually But then it's too late, they victimize, they are free Nobody ever jokes about those that are alright, because The truth is we're all straying from the light Some of us make it more real, those of us like me Some of them make smoke clouds so thick, They can't see reality And then when hands are reached, When intervention is offered, All they do is make jokes about the animals they slaughtered Why am I laughing? Why do I smile? I think I know these means to the end are not worthwhile Walk along this path I sought, Only to paint the stones We're all headed the same place, Naturally or on our own Everyone here is lying, It's how we try to cope And I can't lie, I do try, But falsehoods were never comfortable inside my Palette But other people, they reach out, They truly must have it How are their hands so greedy, Every day they grab it Others are overflowing, Some are bleeding out There's no sense in changing it, When we are all empty and in doubt, Broken- Drinking or binging Screaming or whinging, Singing or sinning We are all seething and we are all believing That we know how to get out
How they see us
