Burned

Whether it's a question of health,
Or all the things they took,
I know you'll find yourself,
Deep inside the final place you look.

And if it's more about the liberty,
And riding out the worst,
It's in the realm of possibility,
That you won't be the first.

Do you think that you'll be heard,
If you scream out all your words,
Do you think they'll notice,
When you tell them that you hope this,
Never fades.
Because it's the best thing you've became,
In all your life,
And you're praying that it's right,
'Cause you've lost too much,
Too many pages burned,
And your past the point of no return.

How in the world did you keep it hidden?
I bet that's what they want to say,
Don't you know: feelings are forbidden?
Yeah, they tell me every day.

Well, that, my friends, is bitter irony,
And we see it at its best,
As always to the endless tyranny,
Someone passed some test,

Do you think that you'll be heard,
If you scream out all your words?
Do you think they'll notice,
When you tell them that you hope this,
Never fades?
'Cause it's the best thing you've became,
In all you life,
And you're praying that it's right,
'Cause you've lost too much,
Too many pages burned,
And you're past the point of no return.





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