| Deja Version |
| Memories of the future. Predicting what has passed. The metaphors that bind us in this world will never last. Can't seem to clean my hands and wash off all this blood. No matter what I do, it stains my fingers. These memories again, they remind me of what I've done. The feeling isn't new. It always lingers. The glass shatters and falls down to the ground. Fragments piercing my skin. Now I break down. Memories of what never could have been. This deja version of life lasts 'till life's end. The glass shatters and falls down to the ground. Fragments piercing my skin. Now I break down. Memories of what never could have been. This deja version of life. New player to the game and I don't know all of the rules. No matter what I say, I'll fall behind. Can't remember my own name. I set myself up to lose. I saw this same play in the back of my mind. Can't seem to clean my hands and wash off all this blood. No matter what I do, it stains my fingers. These memories again, they remind me of what I've done. The feeling isn't new. It always lingers. Will I be An all new person or the same old me? Will I learn from my mistakes or fall exactly The way I did before? I just can't see The future with this thick fog of memories. This deja vu seems to be killing me. Choking me off slowly and violently. Survival of the fittest, so naturally I fall behind until you can't see me. Play it back like a video. Keep on replaying all of my mistakes. After all this, I didn't know that love could build you and bend you 'till you break. The glass shatters and falls down to the ground. Fragments piercing my skin. Now I break down. Memories of what never could have been. This deja version of life lasts 'till life's end. The glass shatters and falls down to the ground. Fragments piercing my skin. Now I break down. Memories of what never could have been. This deja version of life. Memories of the future. Predicting what has passed. The metaphors that bind us in this world will never last. The glass shatters and falls down to the ground. Fragments piercing my skin. Now I break down. Memories of what never could have been. This deja version of life lasts 'till life's end. The glass shatters and falls down to the ground. Fragments piercing my skin. Now I break down. Memories of what never could have been. This deja version of life. |