Drawing
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I'm told that there's no chance of me comin' back
They just say all that shit to scare me, but I'm staying on track
And I know they'd pray for the moment that they get me to crack
I can slice and bleed and bend, they'd rather see me in half
I'm poorly written in most stories you've told
Replace my virtues with some vices, hatred's feeling less cold
I'm fucking evil to your friends and sentiments don't get old
(I'm always controlled)
I feel guilty for the way that I act
I'm always pouring out my heart in hopes you see me intact
I just do it for some help but all you saw was attacks
My response to you was to show off that I had relapsed