Forever Failure

nu metal, psychedelic metal, alternative metal, space rock

Verse 1
Forgotten despite the constant reminders,
The way that is said to be the only way that's right,
Forbidden by my common sense and silenced
By the lack of my morals. They said their final goodbye.

I'm falling apart and gathering pieces
And gluing them back to the skeleton of what once was mine.
There are no monsters inside me, they are different creatures,
They're smiling like angels, laughing like demons, they never regret and they never cry.

Pre-Chorus
Lying, distracting, manipulating,
Twisting the truth, changing the plot.
Screaming, denying. It's so complicated
To be the one that I'm not.

Forever failure.

Chorus
Love is a lie, words are just dust,
My voice is ripping my lungs.
Should I just do what I can, what I must?
My mind is giving a thumbs-up.

Is there a soul or a puddle of tar?
Or is there a soul trapped in the puddle?
"Forever failure — that's what you are"
I'm telling myself, disgusted by the mumble.

Verse 2
The doctor I went to retired at once.
There's no medication that can keep me normal.
During the night I was trying to dance
And I quickly became the dancer of sorrow.

It's all just a game, a relentless desire,
A part of my destiny, very well planned.
I play with my feelings while making a fire.
But instead of getting burned, I'm getting tanned.

Pre-Chorus
Lying, distracting, manipulating,
Twisting the truth, changing the plot.
Screaming, denying. It's so complicated
To be the one that I'm not.

Forever failure.

Chorus
Love is a lie, words are just dust,
My voice is ripping my lungs.
Should I just do what I can, what I must?
My mind is giving a thumbs-up.

Is there a soul or a puddle of tar?
Or is there a soul trapped in the puddle?
"Forever failure — that's what you are"
I'm telling myself, disgusted by the mumble.

Bridge
What does sorry mean?
What does understanding mean?
The red, sticky liquid inside my veins
Is dripping down on the sinister ground.

Forever failure.

Chorus
Love is a lie, words are just dust,
My voice is ripping my lungs.
Should I just do what I can, what I must?
My mind is giving a thumbs-up.

Is there a soul or a puddle of tar?
Or is there a soul trapped in the puddle?
"Forever failure — that's what you are"
I'm telling myself, disgusted by the mumble.