It's all the same
These words they're spewing
It's all the same
Sweet, cute
Bulls**t
Darkness, nightmares
All of it
It's all been done a million times
And there'll be a million more before
I'm out this door
Love, trust, and all of that
It's all the same
And it's all bulls**t

Or maybe I'm just jealous

After all, I said it all
To you before
Does that make me a hypocrite?
Or does it just make me wiser?
Or maybe I'm just jealous.

I've heard all this before
In a million different words
But it all says the same
With a million different melodies

Maybe not
A tune can only go
To so many rhythms
Before it's the same old song

And all this makeup on its face
Doesn't make it prettier
But even more like a whore

“Echoes of myself” come up
As I always try for eloquence
And isn't this beautiful?
Which cliché do I use next?
Do I compare you to a summer's day?
No.
I feel I can't
Ruin thoughts of summer
Like that

I know these words
Trustme.trustme.trustme.
Sobering.
They look so much better
On the paper
In my own familiar hand
Smudged by that same hand
Appropriately enough.
But I'm the only one to erase it.

Now.
I'm clapping for no one.
And isn't this beautiful?

Maybe now.
I'm just saying
The same things.
Except now.
My whore's prettier.
And after all,
You always were.
And aren't you beautiful?