We're a mess. Our family's a mess. We're broken as we can be. Our family cannot be fixed;
But see we're functional and very much alive; We breathe just as much as anyone in the world do;
The pieces are all patched up the wrong ways; Sometimes i find it beautiful, sometimes it's a sore shit;
Nobody can truly understand all the beautiful and sad mess that we are, fragile yet strong, soft yet abrasive;
They all say they understand, but they haven't even reached half the effort that we've put up to stand still after our fall;
They all say they want to doctors us, treat us, fix us; but even when we make no sense to the world,
I wouldn't have us any other way.
The shackles on my neck are suffocating, invisible yet never forgettable, cold but is reassuring
Saw my mother crying tonight, because of the horrible, beautiful mess that we are,
We smile, we breathe, we live; We soar up, we run, we drift and dance around the thousands of people
but what we are through our core would always come back like the constant nightmare that it is;
We frown, we choke, we crumble; We fall down, we stumble, we get lost and cry inside round the thousands of people;
It truly makes no sense; we're desperate to get out of the frightening reality but we still condemn ourselves
To this beautiful mess of a family
We wouldn't have it any other way.
My brother's a militant atheist; he makes my mother weep; he says such utterly cruel things,
Like how her mental instability reaches a bitter end; I see my mom cry and I want to strangle my brother
But I'll think of him and know deep down how loyal to a fault I am to this family, so, so loyal i'd be a criminal for him;
We're all broken thoroughly and glued beautifully wrong; we get burned with ice and we get cold with fire;
No matter how socially we function, we live in an entire universe no one else can get through
We drown, we suffocate, we cry; We're hurt and we claw at each other like animals; But
We gasp, we struggle, we smile; We mend and we lick each other's wound like a desperate Pack
No one would want to live like this, And i
Never committed betrayal by wishing to be in someone else's family.
I wish I was always optimistic; lots of wonderful people surround us now, especially in my work
I'm almost desperate for them like an addict; their goodness and kindness I needed to keep mine living
Always thought of seeing the goodness in people, would it be a mess if i see the beauty of the brokenness of our family?
Always believed in understanding people's point of view, would it be a crime if in turn my moral compass is a bit jarred?
Condemn us, judge us; we're as broken as anyone could be. We're a group mess, but we're a Pack, as solid and sharp
Mom and dad are torn, all the bonds ripped brutally; we watched the whole process unfold, me and my sister's eyes
And with my brother's innocence; Now he's all broken too, and he's one personification of rage and anger
Blame him not, blame us not; Even when his narrowed understanding and lack of self preservation's nil
We're broken, aren't we?
I remember how throughly today.
Wish I could always be optimistic; i breathe with the wonderful people outside the confines of my room,
i learn to be the better person
Then i'll come back to the prison that is my mind
then i'll remember the shackles and scars
then i see beauty and mess
then another person takes over
And suddenly the world's turning inside out
all in the wrong ways
but still beautifully
But see we're functional and very much alive; We breathe just as much as anyone in the world do;
The pieces are all patched up the wrong ways; Sometimes i find it beautiful, sometimes it's a sore shit;
Nobody can truly understand all the beautiful and sad mess that we are, fragile yet strong, soft yet abrasive;
They all say they understand, but they haven't even reached half the effort that we've put up to stand still after our fall;
They all say they want to doctors us, treat us, fix us; but even when we make no sense to the world,
I wouldn't have us any other way.
The shackles on my neck are suffocating, invisible yet never forgettable, cold but is reassuring
Saw my mother crying tonight, because of the horrible, beautiful mess that we are,
We smile, we breathe, we live; We soar up, we run, we drift and dance around the thousands of people
but what we are through our core would always come back like the constant nightmare that it is;
We frown, we choke, we crumble; We fall down, we stumble, we get lost and cry inside round the thousands of people;
It truly makes no sense; we're desperate to get out of the frightening reality but we still condemn ourselves
To this beautiful mess of a family
We wouldn't have it any other way.
My brother's a militant atheist; he makes my mother weep; he says such utterly cruel things,
Like how her mental instability reaches a bitter end; I see my mom cry and I want to strangle my brother
But I'll think of him and know deep down how loyal to a fault I am to this family, so, so loyal i'd be a criminal for him;
We're all broken thoroughly and glued beautifully wrong; we get burned with ice and we get cold with fire;
No matter how socially we function, we live in an entire universe no one else can get through
We drown, we suffocate, we cry; We're hurt and we claw at each other like animals; But
We gasp, we struggle, we smile; We mend and we lick each other's wound like a desperate Pack
No one would want to live like this, And i
Never committed betrayal by wishing to be in someone else's family.
I wish I was always optimistic; lots of wonderful people surround us now, especially in my work
I'm almost desperate for them like an addict; their goodness and kindness I needed to keep mine living
Always thought of seeing the goodness in people, would it be a mess if i see the beauty of the brokenness of our family?
Always believed in understanding people's point of view, would it be a crime if in turn my moral compass is a bit jarred?
Condemn us, judge us; we're as broken as anyone could be. We're a group mess, but we're a Pack, as solid and sharp
Mom and dad are torn, all the bonds ripped brutally; we watched the whole process unfold, me and my sister's eyes
And with my brother's innocence; Now he's all broken too, and he's one personification of rage and anger
Blame him not, blame us not; Even when his narrowed understanding and lack of self preservation's nil
We're broken, aren't we?
I remember how throughly today.
Wish I could always be optimistic; i breathe with the wonderful people outside the confines of my room,
i learn to be the better person
Then i'll come back to the prison that is my mind
then i'll remember the shackles and scars
then i see beauty and mess
then another person takes over
And suddenly the world's turning inside out
all in the wrong ways
but still beautifully
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