Host

Fake

Host


That's just plastic, nothing else but me 
Engaged on my fucking racket way of being
So don't even try to screw it out of me 
Sorry, you're all covered with my disease

Even if all the angels were fallen down 
from heaven and quiet stares at me 
I could not show you my number seven 
without keep hurting... you 

Aching bones under pale skin 
A fucking pleased trigger beneath my sin 
A broken piece of lack annoying everything 
Hollow leaves going down the stream 

Pull my secrets from your cell 
My jealousy about my selfish being 
Stop crying baby, i'm not your taste 
It just my blade that keep hurting... me 

Creeping parts of me
Naked reality
All I used to be
Shows that I'm a fake