Letra y Significado de AUGUST WINTERMAN, Dead Poetic



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And if i could teach the world to be..
i'd teach them all to be something just like me.
frustrated, bitter, depressing.
Perfect – as if my wings were like yours
but i'm falling down.
And if you could hold your tongue long enough..
you'd see that all i am is love, but i don't like me.
i despise me.
Perfect – as if my wings were like yours
but i'm falling down.
perfect – as if my wings were like yours
but i'm falling down.
It's a disease they'll never have a cure for.
you're the only way to dry my eyes.
it's a disease, they'll never have a cure.
but i'm the on whose wrong. i'm the one who cries.
it's a disease, they'll never have a cure for.
it's a disease, they'll never have a cure.
but i'm the on whose wrong. i'm the one who cries.
I cry – i despise me.


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