There's no such thing as a perfect dream.
With me at least, because when I dream, I scream.
I try to run, I try to hide.
I try to get away from the people that lied.
So many nights, I've sat and just cried.
Because of the person that had lied.
The person that mattered most in my life.
The person for a few months, took me away from the knife.
The person that had always made me smile
and always made me happy, but it only lasted a while.
The girl that told me she loved me in a sisterly way
and always cried when I told her I wouldn't stay.
She'd always tell me I was her best friend
But after a while, we'd fight and we'd scream and she'd always tell me, that she wished I was dead.
To me this made me scream
To me, this is my sort of dream.
