I Love You But I’ve Chosen Me (Part VII)

I see the language that you choose
To present me as some pompous stuffy fool
And I could wipe your arse for you
And you’d still call me the princess if I gipped at my fingers
And you slept on the floor again
Must be a repercussion somehow of being my friend
The most of myself I could give you
And I hear you slyly blame me for ruining your life
Come on, come on, merry sage of perspective
Tell me where I’m fucking up
As I wipe off what was spat into my face with love

I don’t know what you’re gonna do without this, if I’m honest
This palace of virtue is just a hole full of malice
I don’t know what you’re gonna do without this, if I’m honest
This palace of virtue is just a hole full of malice

And from the highest precipice you still smell like piss
I worry the fall will be too high for you
And from the highest precipice you still smell like piss
I worry the fall will be too high for you

One of my ideocentrics, making their big normie debut
The crumbs of pride we have are just crumbs