Woorden: Rebuke. Kill Stereotypes. Sitting Novations.

Your voice invoke the demons from the bottom of my breaking heart
the dwelling, sleeping
my shrivelled lips now vow a promise, a promise that I'll play my part
and I will keep it

your eyes they penetrate my surface, burning a hole through my shield
my vindication
until I'm left with no defences, exposing the wounds never healed
my revelation

now quit your bowing 'cause no one's applauding your efforts any way
there's no attention for your condescension, but you'll always stay the same