War Paint
I've still got passion, and I've still got guts.
But I no longer give a fuck about what you want.
You say I'm a savior and a saint?
Then let's stop pretending and pull out the war paint.
Or do you refuse to open old wounds,
In fear that you'll actually have to feel?
We try so hard. We try to just pretend
That things didn't change as the honeymoon set.
This house, this ring, the secrets shared in bed
Were built on the faith in the foundation.
And I feel the bend...
The fucking more I see who you've become
The more I lose sight of the love
That I once had in your brown eyes.
I used to be afraid that this would end,
Now I embrace it.
We are ships passing through the night.
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