pink try three

I’m not sure anymore of what I’ve done
I thought I held up when I was young
And it was you who fell
Down into the pitfall of personal hell
And I who rose
To follow the path of what I chose
And now I deliberate
Did I put him in that state
Or leave him there, to be sure
Was my heart ever pure
Or all caught up in conflagrations
Seeking its own excitation
And avenues
While you sang the blues
Of your own design
Or were they of mine
I held my head so high, I thought in strength
Like haughtiness was heaven sent
And you would take an inch of ground
If I stayed myself around
To be destroyed by degrees
The lovers live lives on their knees
And grow to hate what they once professed
Was the sole reason they undressed
And in my mind I swore
That I am bound for the shore
The sacred space of evermore
But now you call me a whore
Though we never touched
But you’re right, I’m fucked.

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