Who could tell, I love a pale complexion
The buzz that I could use a wrong direction
And you promised not to promise me
A world of hot Mythology, if so
And all the fake realities
And all the stupid jealousies
And all the false apologies that came
It's just the brain, in the brain
Into the veins, in the veins
Drunk on the blood of the Saints
You know, a blister could do this gal a favour
Lust can turn into immoral behaviour
And I promise not to promise you
A Social Anhedonia, to boot
And all the fake realities
And all the stupid jealousies
And all the false apologies that came
'I promise' doesn't mean a thing
If you don't believe in anything
7 different daggers in my mind
And you're damaged by the ones you can't let go
Tell me something else that I don't know
It just the brain, into the veins More from Bettie Serveert