The real barbie and Ken
The only difference is we don't live dream house, drive that hot pink car
And at our disposal we cant become whatever we want to
Instead I traded it all in for a hell house
My dreams came crashing down at the raise of your hand
My hot pink car turn into me walking
Because you didn't feel like picking me up
My clothes became torn, burn, stain from your angry rants
We become plastic in front of everyI cover the pain so well I believe myself
I try to run
You follow
I hide
You seek
I scream
You cover me
The only way out is death
Rather it's you or me

No comments:
Post a Comment