Crimson over pink dust
When the pale begs for crimson,
every colour is triggering.
Disenchant flows through my mind,
and yet again it's the nothingness who lives my life...
(whilst I watch with hopeless eyes
the world not noticing the difference between us
somehow, only you can see me...)
How can I see any imperfection
before the pink dust fades from my sight?
The pale begs for crimson,
its only reason is contrast.
every colour is triggering.
Disenchant flows through my mind,
and yet again it's the nothingness who lives my life...
(whilst I watch with hopeless eyes
the world not noticing the difference between us
somehow, only you can see me...)
How can I see any imperfection
before the pink dust fades from my sight?
The pale begs for crimson,
its only reason is contrast.
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