Excuses excuses is what he uses
For the marks on his fragile skin
Been doing it all his life
It's the thing he's best at
No one cares though
And no one bothers to ask
Why this boy never cries
...Why he never tries...
Black and blue and red
Seem to favor him best at home
He says he's prone to "falling"
Its not the truth but its close enough
Kept away inside a boarded up room
Not allowed to see the day of light
Not allowed to see the people who love him
Falling asleep to the sound of gunshots
Not knowing what love is
Is like not knowing what the warm sun feels like
To him his pain is his love
And the ceiling is his sun
Black and blue and red
Seem to favor him best at home
He says he is prone to ''falling''
Its not the truth but its close enough
