Inch Chua
cold conned conquered
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Pieces of you,
Ourselves we lose,
we're falling.
People we knew,
finding excuses to be amused.
Breathe in slowly,
take a step outside.
(breathe)
Laid out like an open book,
you're broken broken.
Wasted is the good on you.
You're cold, conned, conquered.
(fame is vapour and only earthy certainty is oblivion)
Blame the accuse,
Ourselves we choose.
we're falling
Fame we pursue,
Finding excuses to be amused.
Breathe in slowly,
take a step outside.
(breathe)
Laid out like an open book,
you're broken broken.
Wasted is the good on you.
You're cold, conned, conquered.