A lie is a lie wrapped inside the other.
Who am I to know you?
Who are you to love me?
And when will we all fall down from this hill, with no control, letting it all come out, like snakes dreaming of poisoning,
well then, maybe we could talk. Maybe we could work it out.
But 22 years is too long.
Who am I to begin with?
And who is anyone that says they love me.
