What am I supposed to do?
What do you expect from me?
You look at me as if I was death
itself, if that were even possible.
Do you treat me like it? I really
want to say no, because I don't
to you. But I have to take off
my rose-tinted glasses. The very
ones that will poison your mind.
Assuming I'm too late, I will
continue this false trance.
"Goodnight, see you in the morning!"