light it on fire, the incense
of our broken lives, silent cries
from poisoned lips whose kisses
brought only lies and death.
Some things never change.
Hiding our faults behind
glass doors, wishing for something more
than broken mirrors and lovers' lies.
Tears of a saint never change anything.
Blood of a martyr shed in vain.
Was I always this insecure, or
did your punches and blows push me over?
Saints and sinners, they all lie
in the same graves, their bones
all blow to dust the same way.
Some things never change.
Some people never change.
Empty hearts all look the same
And some of us never could be saved.
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