Concerning you I am broken. I try not to be seen.
Sometimes I wish I could open your head in bed when you dream.
And even if it's all my love it could never be enough.
Of that I'm very well aware. I hate the monster who maimed you.
I hate his ugly guts. I built an army to kill him but they don't have enough strut.
And even if it were true love it could never be enough.
And I know what you're thinking honey. I've red books about the devil too.
And I know that it's tempting honey to think it's he who directs our shoes.
For some things there's no comfort honey. A these days I've had a lot to lose.
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