'The problem with learning the truth about things is that you lose the confidence that comes from being dumb.'
You tell me you'd like to see me again,
what you'd like isn't my concern, I'm not an old friend
You know not this person, though she looks like me,
the young girl you reminisce could no longer be
Don't give yourself credit, for you were not the artist,
I watched myself burn in flames, turns out I'm quite the arsonist,
and I laughed like a lunatic under the full moons light,
as the flames painted their shapes on the surface of my eyes and boy did they
gleam bright
If we were to meet now, it would only leave you confused,
that young girl ran out of love after it kept being used
but humans need a fuel, a drive, a will to live,
and she flew on her pain, so now pain
is her gift to give
She doesn't need to survive because she can rise from the dead,
she grew a second voice, a second brain, replaced her heart with Medusa's head
and you would not like to see me again,
what you would like is not my concern, I am not
your old friend.
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