So do my tears of glass mean nothing to you?
I mean they should, ‘cause you’re the cause
Is my fragile egg heart valuable?
Except a breakfast to feed your fetish of broken hearts
You left me scrambled up
And in a rut
I wish I couldn’t give a f**k
I’m shattered stained glass
So do my tears of glass mean nothing to you? They definitely should because you’re the cause. You are the one who made my tears of stained glass fall effortlessly from my eyes. And what about my fragile egg heart. Is that of any value to you? Is there any worth to it? Can you use it in anyway? Except for a breakfast to feed you ravenous fetish of broken hearts. Except for another shell to add to you collection. You left me scrambled up and just stuck in a deep rut. I really wish that I could just say, “IDGAF” but I just can’t. You meant too much to me.
And I won’t bother to remind you
Walking on glass is dangerous
‘Cause maybe one day you step on a shard
Just so hard
That it will end your marching ran of terror
And paralyze you ego
For the better
You know what, I shouldn’t. I won’t bother to remind you that walking on egg shells and broken glass is dangerous because maybe if I hope and wish and pray hard enough that one day you may step on a large shard just so hard that it will end your ran of terror and paralyze your ego and alter you for the better.
You ripped my heart out of my chest
And basked in the glory of its mess
My tears of glass hit the ground
Shattering resounds and cuts the air
You ripped my heart out of its chest. Then you basked in the glory of its gory mess. And let my tears of glass hit the ground. A high pitched shattering resounds, cutting and slicing through the air.
