you don't know me like you should and even if you could you wouldn't know

She doesn't know me, just the shades that I display.

For one to profess so easily, well it's simply a lie to herself.

She doesn't know the core that keeps silent as the days go by.

For one to confess such admirations, well it's simply a web for the fly.

She didn't know that I was healing from the deepest wound and such fantasy could give me hope.

Why must lust take something so delicate and tear it down because of such lonely hunger?

You don't know me like you should have, know me before you hurt me more than the last had.

Even if you could, your need, greed to feed blinded your hands, but I was willing to give it a chance.

Fool for believing in anything you ever said.