Losers

Losers

 

 

Who gave you the power to try to wound any lonely heart?

Your eyes are burning embers, wannabe lord of war.

The vicious blade cuts the youthful pieces of skin.

The thirst for the crimson water increases by the second.

Who gave you the power to try to wound any good soul?

Calm words mean nothing for the disturbed mind of an old man.

His mind only wants to destroy what others created over the years.

He only sees red around him and nothing more. Hate blinded his soul.

You call us losers to clean your soul of years of self-build angst.

The mirror might break if you look at all the darkness inside.

Look at it all at once, you, owner of a plastic piece of the human soul!

Who gave you the power to try to wound any lonely heart?

Those who got bruises all over their bodies are stronger than you´ll ever be.

They are used to the piercing sensation you desperately hide from.

Laugh it off all you want but this is the raw truth, glittery puppet.

No silver screen can be big enough to display all of your insecurities.

Now, tell me...Who´s the loser now?