The needle in your hand seems to be dangerous to us

I don't know why
I'm talking to myself in my bedroom
with five orange walls and lime blanket.
I don't know why
You come to see my tears, staring
at my face, laughing to yourself, maybe
I don't know why
there's a butterfly on my eyebrow that
tickles my neurons on the edge of my brain.
I don't know why
the needle in your hand seems to be
dangerous to us, light becomes gray.

Tell me why my gray cells are spinning
me around in circles of illusion
Ask me who told me to be myself
So that I can easily break the rules.

Don't tell me who
always lights up the sun-rise
I don't always believe you and in Him
Don't tell me who
wanted to try your warm blood
'cause mine becomes cold and jealous
Don't tell me who
doesn't like our existence
'cause I have enough strength to kill him
Don't tell me who
put needle in my arm
I'm addicted to you forever and stronger.


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