treadingwater. pts.6-8 (Savage Ballad): breaking.

I'm sick of sitting around, expecting someone to walk into my life
Tired of withering away, patiently waiting for a time that's right
And I don't know how I can escape this cycle I'm trapped in, trapped in
And I don't know why I can't be on my own again, own again

Need to learn to ride it out solo
And I feel the claws as they swipe at my throat

It seems that I was right about you the first time that I penned
Thought we were kinda similar in energy we had
Think you're all that cause your looks and me because of tunes
But where's that pretty face getting you?
Fucking nowhere.
You shame me for the only thing that I know how to do
Won't spare any little shred of gratitude
Unless it's to someone who is constantly praising you
So to bugs you keep giving your food

I could never make you happy
How is that something I could do
It's impossible, you're failing at it too

God my pen's so surgical, surgical, surgical
Put those doubts inside your skull, inside your skull, inside your skull
Damn my wit's so visceral, visceral, visceral
Put a mirror right up to ya and didn't like what you saw back

People don't like hearing the truth
People don't like you for you
I'm sorry it's really the truth
I'm not the only one who thinks that if you