Die meisten verarbeiten den größten teil ihrer zeit, um zu leben, und das bisschen, das ihnen von Freiheit übrig bleibt, ängstigt sie so, dass sie alle mittel aufsuchen, um es los zu werden.

“SHOULD WE FEEL GUILTY?”
“I pray my children will forgive me”

I held your name inside my heart, but it got buried in my fear

And I remember the way that you dressed - how we wasted all the best of us in alcohol and sweat I still remember how the distance tricked us, how we held so strong to this - I still remember how it all came back together just to fall apart again It must be true what people say that only time can heal the pain

I leave the memory up atop the balcony.
I tear this flower from the back of the dress.
It’s best this time, I bet, to just forget and let go.
Paint it the shade of where the lip bleeds and blur it out.
I blur out everything else, just blur out everything else.
And let go, and let go, and let go.

But if I still hear you singing in every city I meet
After I blur it all out, our every memory, if
You never fade with the days, your shape still haunting me then,
Should I not just sing along?
Should I not just sing along?