Cynic

[nemoasphyxia]

There's no life to your living
there's so much hope in your lies
there's no mistakes in your hatred
as long as everyone dies
there's no truth in trust now
and you can trust me on it
love's worth it's weight in gold
but you can take your pick

I'm sick of trying, so sick of lying, so sick of hearing you say

that everything's a-ok
it's supposed to be this way
So close your eyes and say it's bliss
cause you sold your soul for this

I'm the cynic?

so go pick your poison
we live by the dose
you beg for your fix
just to OD on hope
so no, nothing's sacred
except the virtue of want
because if you've got the money
who cares what you've lost?

it's so disturbing, the things that I've heard when truth whispers, but headlines scream

that everything's a-ok
it's supposed to be this way
So close your eyes and say it's bliss
cause you sold your soul for this

I'm the cynic?

Trust me, it's so much better like this
At least you'll never have to lie

Damn it took me a long time to write this one