This old crutch that's been holding me up has finally been kicked out from under me. Force fed lies told not to question why. I don't want to see through someone else's eyes. Uncertainty, my disease. There's no cure for me, doubting fatality. At least I know I've lost this war in trying to understand everything. So you can be the martyr. So you can be the goddamn saint. So you can be the savior of everyone you hate. You've made your rules through your interpretation of what you deemed as the truth. Who is right and who is wrong when it comes down to one's opinion? Your rules will bury you the same as mine will bury me. All I know is what matters most is that we're hanging on to something.
credits
from Desolation Soirée,
released October 19, 2015
Words-Wickes // Music-Wickes.
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