We are acid, we are broken from the silence.
Becoming never meant to be.
We are splendid if only we can hold our tongues before we scream.
Never mind the reasoning.
But my intestine is a dying rotten cobra.
Coiled around my fear and truth.
But my intestine is a shinning rotten cobra.
Doobie doobie dooba doo.
We are ugly, we are joined and we can break apart for free.
We are beautiful and still...
We are disjointed and we can come together when we please
Nothing here is in between.
But my intestine is a dying rotten cobra.
And its perfect just like you.
But my intestine is a shinning rotten cobra.
Decorate my past for cute.
But my intestine is a dying rotten cobra.
Doobie doobie dooba doo.
But my intestine is a shinning rotten cobra.
Does my self worth confuse you?