everyday she wallows in her dream
pacing back and forth, with nothing in between
the devastated girl has given up
the boy has fallen to the fate of luck
tells her with a slight smile,
its just a virus.
she laid on him
and I cant touch it
its buried in.
its all for nothing
this web of you
is just a cycle of abuse.
since you said it's fine, I might believe
I might believe.
Dirty girls are easy to decieve.
A penny for your thoughts
or just to take your clothes off.
Rather dull the pain, than stand out in the rain
to catch the virus that seems to be
the undercurrent of my insanity
the lowest layer that has been fused
beneath my cycle of abuse.
It's just a virus he says to me
its not the prison you make it out to be.
too bad your dying, too bad its true.
as is this cycle of, cycle of abuse.