Hope is a knife, faith is murder.

She cries out to you,

but you haven't heard her,

because the truth is you don't care,

and deep down she knows,

but her hope is just the thorns

on a wilted rose.

 

Yes, the love is shriveled dead,

but she won't face it, 

because it hurts too much.

You take her love and waste it.

Your ego's in the way.

She was just an accessory,

like the glint in your eyes

when you crafted all the lies 

that would charm her heart

and make her smile.

It was only temporary.

You only wanted her a while.

 

But now you'll throw her away,

just like the ones in her past.

She thought with you'd be different,

but even your love didn't last.

Now imagine when she finds out

and finally faces the truth,

when denial fades

and returns her to her youth,

when she saw daddy hurt mommy,

and grab her by the hair,

because the truth is all the men

never really cared.