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phases of falling apart
sitting back, just to feel this decline
moving downwards, can't tell myself it's fine
wanting it all, but when i have it it's nothing special
nothing is special, when everything's the same
living these carbon copied days
xerox a whole week, churn it out over and over again
nothing's going to change this
i'm slowly bleeding
drop by drop, piece by piece
it's all bound to fall apart
seeing less of you, but more of myself
how i wish it was the other way around
because i can't stand myself right now
can't even face myself right now
it's all out of reach
out of my bounds
so fragile, it'll fall apart any day now
why do i insist on doing things for you?
when it's a knife in the back anyway
