Breathing hell

You could tell me you're not fine.
You could drop the wine.
You could put out the ccigarette
You\'re not dead yet.

If you loved me you wowouldt Tve sent me those dead vibes
Because the way you're Reng you just might start believing your own lies

This riddle of staying alive
Long enough to keep you to open your eyes
Realize what you do to us
Watch as our cares glaze over and we begin to rust

Do you even care that we're just diving into a pool of ice
Where the only thing breaking is my temper and I'm sick of being nice
I don't care anymore
I'm sick of being your little emotional shoulder wh0r3

I\'m sick of your problems
You wear me out
And you can go sob till you solve them
I couldn't care less, I don't doubt

Killing time over an open fire
Slashing faces of all the liars
Devestated by the wake of your life
Yet still sitting here sharpening my knife