A council dictates the acts over the thoughts,
but maybe they can even blame you for things you know.

Like the writing on your grave
decades before your time has finally come.
This is not about a headshot, nor a razor.
I don't want to live in a hole, at least for a while.

If you think you are perfect, your days are a waste.
Today your biggest mistakes look you in the face.

And I think it's ironic
how a whip can heal the wounds.
You scare the fire out of me,
but I won't run away from you.

There are tears that hide indifference,
and that's quite ironic.
There are endless fields of fuck-ups
for you to reap.

I've been leaning on your words way too much;
(I've been leaning on your words.)
I should've read you from the start.
This is not about relief, it's a scar
(I've been falling and it hurts.)
that's burning in my heart. I'm trying to be honest.

If you think you are perfect, your days are a waste.
Today your biggest mistakes look you in the face.
And don't you think it's ironic
how the sharpest whip can heal the wounds?
I'm sick of this, but I won't...

I won't run away, run away from you.
It's complex, but it's true.
You're all the things that I'm not,
but I can't seem to run away, run away from you.
You constantly abuse.
You're all the things that I fight to let go.

Don't you think it's ironic?
I won't run away.

Run away, run away from you.
It's complex but it's true.
You're all the things that I'm not,
I think it's time to run away, run away from you.
You constantly abuse... (LET IT GO!)
I'm sick of this, I think it's time to let go.