Texty: Botch. American Nervoso. Dead for a Minute.

These mirrors break
And now we've lost everything
Pieces collect about me
Despite my efforts
Only I can be nothing
All I see are opaque expressions
And lives of depression
Staring into glassy eyes
All is lost for compromise
All I see are opaque expressions
They lived for our incision
But now they fade
Until they've faded away