No. It wasn't me.
The blood-shot eyes, piercing through my composition
The eyes that fight to betray the truth in the heart
Break me, quash my soul
Sing me the beats of a dying heart
Shattered glass, splattered blood
Why must you think? Why must you question?
Don't look at me like this. You know it.
Don't look at me like this. It wasn't me.
Don't look at me like this. It wasn't me.
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