I feel like I’m so faked it hurts me so.
I love but that love hides the hurt below.
I want to say how I really feel but that is something I don’t know.
I reach for a lie and I never will let go.

My lie is that I care. My lie is that I don’t.
My lie is that I want to have her. My lie is that I won’t
My lie is that I’m honest and my lie is that I know.
I’m not sure what my lie is and that is my lie, my woe.

I keep no comfort in what I say, and it makes me feel at ease.
What I say is who I am, but that phrase is just a tease.
For who I am is whatever my heart choses to believe
But what I say is all that others ever see.