For if this flower is truly to be mine, then He will not let it defy me.
With the pen as the knife and the paper as the wrist,
When all of this is misery, I write to end all of this.
We played with fire, we played with fate.
We tried to love, but alas, we hate.
We tried to count, but we cannot measure
The consequence of untimely pleasure.
I should stop her sprint up there and bring her home.
Kiss her, lay her down, and kiss her some more,
Bring the kisses lower and watch her soar.
Enter her spaceship, continue the flight,
Refuel among the stars; we have all night.
Satisfy her desires that simmer and burn,
Land and let her go, but I know she'll return.
Loses its loving blood flow
And turns into stone.
I accumulated millions of dollars and millions of justified haters.
I sold my soul for my own greater good, but is this really greater?
To stand in the lights as I do what I do has always been my dream,
but these lights blind me, might as well be dark, for this is a nightmare it seems.
I'm consciously spreading a repping a message I consciously do not support,
but everything is at total risk if I should decide to abort.
I live better than all but my wealth is inversely proportional to my mental health
this tangible success seems to come with the price of constantly failing myself.
So honestly, i just wanna take you and hold you
so we can fly in a car and make our dreams come true.
Yeah reality's nice but my dreams are better
i bet ur dreams awesome too so lets put them together