Текст: American Head Charge. Art of War. Self.

no sense of self
to balance it off
preconceived notions of something
everyones gone
will I show up
with all that I have to give
would you consider it a gift
but that
doesnt matter anyway
liar youre such a
on your hands and knees
picking up the broken pieces
liar youre such a
on your hands and knees
afraid to turn my head
for fear of whats behind me
I swear Ive seen you before
but that
doesnt matter anyway
liar youre such a
on your hands and knees
picking up the broken pieces
liar youre such a
on your hands and knees
pleasingly
falling apart
pleasingly
oblivious
youve left with more of the same
I cant win
liar