I can't begin to lie well enough to myself to convince my own broken mind that I'm okay, I'm the only one that can hear this infernal internal dialogue, so that's probably why.
The web I've spun has entangled wretched souls lost to lies and tall tales that are far fetched glory of a hollow chest with a cavity where my heart should be.
I've done more evil than generations of families could create, the eyes of the souls I've hurt are burned forever in my mind, I am damned by this but it's only deserving for me.
I've learned you never make a friend, everyone you love will go away in the end, and no one is gonna hold your hand on the day that you die.
For my ability to make Orson Wells turn in his grave with my undertones and hushed mumblings of double speak is a gift or curse, depending on your view.
I make promises I can't and never intended to keep, I stand in a room of liars much like myself but some far better than me, if only by a margin of sin.
There can not be a God because if there is then there must be a hell and I am aware that if it exists, I am destined to end there.
I am a warmonger and I am a representative of the United States.
I need your vote.
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