Long live
Long live the generation of pills and plastered smiles
The ones with their problems dripping red on the bathroom tiles.
The ones with their problems dripping red on the bathroom tiles.
Monsters in their head,
And braided ropes beneath their beds.
And braided ropes beneath their beds.
They have loneliness in their veins,
And sip regret like champagne,
Self loathing stories flicker in their eyes,
what kind of teenager wants to die?
They self diagnose.
They self medicate .
They're tumbling down quickly into the churning ocean of "too late."
On the surface they seems fine,
Yet they are ticking grenades running out of time.
What went wrong?
Where have they all gone?
This is the generation that didn't live long.
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