Bouquet Of Ruin

You say life ain’t worth living.
I don’t believe that to be true.
This bouquet of ruin,
Is what was handed to you.

Pressure is mounting and you don’t want a piece.
Rather be curled up in a different place.
But truth is things are not what they once were.
Listening to the world can feel like a spur,
Driven deep into the side of your skull.
Ignore it too long and all things go dull.
So focus on something other than your own voice.
You believe me wrong but there is still choice.

You say life ain’t worth living.
I don’t believe that to be true.
This bouquet of ruin,
Is what you wanted so…

Air your grievances and cast them to sea.
What has been done does not have to be.
The cycle once broken will not return and sing.
If you hear otherwise it is you who does fling,
Hope to the dogs to dwell in the mire.
No one is attempting to act or conspire.
For you are the deity of what is to come.
Don’t let those voices break you down to none.

Cause you say life ain’t worth living.
I don’t believe that to be true.
This bouquet of ruin,
Doesn’t need to be part of you.

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