P.G.L.G. Pity F**k or Colombian Sunrise Over An Irish Bay

Oh crimson girl
Your locks are red
How does it feel to
F**k my best friend?

Sand colored skin
His bold white lies
Betrayed by both
I'm not surprised

Closed off signals
I couldn't tell
You should have told me
Than to put me through hell

Instead you told him
This couldn't be
Never would have happened
If not drunk with me

Manipulation
Non communication
As the bestie knew
I wasn't well
Clothes on the floor
My mind is a mess
Walk out the door
Now I'm something less

Chorus:
Narcissistic pleasures
Fucked up in artificial weather

Smoking with a wolf
Under clothing that is leather

Dismayed from the days
Of the bullshit games once played

Being treated like a simpleton
Yet you're the one who fucked a hypocrite

2nd verse:
I'm sick and tired
Of being sick and tired
Being used by girls
Using boys as toys

I'm tired ignorance
I'm tired of lies
All these f*****g fake friends
In disguise

I'm tired of s***s
When I don't ask for too much
Had up to here, with this s**t everyday
My life's full of people who don't care either way

Walking with stab wounds
In my back
They slit my throat
Now I feel trapped

The witty laughs
As I gargle on blood
What are friends for?
Just to make you cum?

Or to have fun within pretense?!
F*****g with my emotions
At my expense
As you're impressed

Inhale the ashes
Exhale the shame
My mind is a birdcage
Twisted in hate

Chorus

Bridge
Outro