Blister by Tory Cottingham
Take the chance to realise that you are not a queen.
Maybe they just keep smiling on a chance that you'll be alright.
Maybe I'm not the type to be able to look inside your head.
After a while their masks can really start to mess with your mind.
I don't know what to care about, Don't know what to break my back about.
My God, I don't know what you're thinking.
Sweetie, you're just a blister that's hiding inside our heads.
By God, oh, you're not gonna get to me.
Like a candle burning, shine, sado-masochistic charm.
Oh, your eyes so potent, they really blow me away,
But now you're just a fusion, a fusion of love and of hate,
And, my God, I can't feel what you're feeling.