Shoulder the blame, stomach the pain.
A twisted game, of which we play.
Under sticks and stones lie broken bones,
From a past we can not erase,
To save face, we embrace before the crowd.
Stary nights lost to broken skies with black clouds.
Trembling and weak we barely speak for fear of speaking truth.
Finding reasons to justify treasons, when there is no excuse.
So here we stay in the bed we lay, together but alone.
Solitaire and nothings clear, except the lies that built our home.
In which we dwell, living hell, silent circus that we portray.
We are so lost, love is gone, it's all wrong, and yet we stay???

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