Teksty: Dead Poetic. August Winterman.

And if I could teach the world to be
I'd teach them all to be something just like me
Frustrated, bitter, depressing

Perfect, as if my wings were like yours
Perfect, but I'm falling down

And if you could hold your tongue long enough
You'd see that all I am is love but I don't like me
I despise me

Perfect, as if my wings were like yours
Perfect, but I'm falling down

Perfect, as if my wings were like yours
Perfect, but I'm falling down

It's a disease they'll never have a cure for
You're the only way to dry my eyes
It's a disease, they'll never have a cure
But I'm the one who's wrong, I'm the one who cries

It's a disease, they'll never have a cure for
It's a disease, they'll never have a cure
But I'm the one who's wrong, I'm the one who cries

I cry, I despise me
I cry, I despise me
I cry, I despise me
I cry, I despise me