Tekstovi: Another Breath. Not Now, Not Ever. Truth In The Television.

Red Room confession, laughter into ruin, cornstarch blood washes easily away
Bullet holes disappear in time but it's not real
It's all a lie
Red Room confession, laughter into ruin, cornstarch blood washes easily away
But Hollywood towns only show what lies within the camera frame
Tissues stained in motor oil lay outside in the fringes with the things that we will never see
Why don't we ask for something more than these lives largely based on sitcoms and made-for-TV movies? Something has gone terribly wrong and we have no one but ourselves to blame
We joined the crowd to do what's been down thousands
of times by fools before us who have laid down at the crossroads
No we're no more than our heroes' best qualities
Conformity is spending your life trying to fit into the same bullshit standard as people who have already given into social pressures
Trading yours for something thinner than a line of paper dolls
How long until you crumble? This is your last chance; will you go out and dance? or will you sit and watch and act as if you don't belong in your own skin
You won't find any answers if you're looking away to The person that you wish you could be. I can't justify hiding behind masquerade
Reminding yourself that who you are doesn't matter at all