You’re terrified of failure in a world that’s not afraid. We’re only
as bold as the moves we make. For Christ’s sake, give it a rest. If I
haven’t yet, what makes you think I’ll come around? Your fractured
thoughts on what life’s about are fault lines cracking up a stable
ground. No, I won’t stop now.
I ripped the cornerstone from progress, collapsed under the weight.
I’m spent. Honestly, how the hell am I still awake? You said you
wanted more from me. I’m clawing through the wreckage for a victory, but the pressure's hard to shake. How the hell am I still awake?
You only ever talk down. You spit bullets from a naive mouth. I
guess you know it all now, but you don’t. No, you don’t. You're
counterproductive, destructive, a fraction of yourself. Your hollowed
heart got ripped apart. Now your words have a body count.
If you told me I’m a failure, I'd have to disagree 'cause I built this
life on restless nights and reckless memories. And I know I'll make
mistakes, but I won’t admit defeat 'cause I built this life on
restless nights and reckless memories.
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