Fake

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