The american dream puzzled by your fears, mixed up by those beautiful tears I laid down all these last years.
Im not pretty sure if i'm fond by the heart, but those bonds are covered by fear of the unattached.
Is everything, a thing forever?
You can really see me or is it just an ilusion of what you want to see?
Everything would be a thing forever, if ilusions, american dream and beautiful tears weren't choked by the mess of my whole last few years.
(fuck it, sometimes i've loved the void)
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