...and then what?

Burn those pages up
And tear out all of that verse
Your writing craft is lack
But oh you need to be heard?
So mock your emotions up
And set em down to the drumline
And take that fucking stage, head hanging high

And go on like it was nothing?
With all you said, why the difference?
My hypocritical nonsense is really getting to me
Written
Delivered
The taste is
So bitter
But I can't stop the words falling from my mouth
Again
And only then
Will I ever feel accomplished?
I need to sit down and breathe



Credits
Writer(s): Max Bozarth
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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