can't sort this trick
can't stop this tick
stop stop
i'm not your fucking shtick
i won't sit nice for you
i don't fit right like you
i'm gonna wrinkle my skirt
gonna roll in this dirt
shave my head
save my bed
lose all sleep
hit me here
in the knees
watch me bleed
you soul tease
got me screaming yes please
yes please
my shins as my feet
now walk, you say
my chin as your concrete
now talk, you pray
my sin your midnight treat
now shine, you bray
but you can't hear me
fucking lock jaw
another bar crawl
but how could you hear me from up there?
any narcissism to spare?
how's the air up in that space?
how could you hear me
when you're standing on my face?
fuck this mask
this 'managing' this 'treatment'
take your foot off my chest
take away this suppressed
shake off this sick
sort out this trick
rid rid this tick
spit spit on your shtick
bruise bruise
on that muscle in the middle of your chest
that was from me
throwing bricks as you smirked
checking if your heart still worked
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