16 June 2012
If this house was on fire, No one would notice, We'd burn in the flames, Pride is our game.
Ignorant, And shallow, Is all we know, We we're brought up to be vainful.
Nasty and spiteful, Hate taking turns, Forced into this pattern, Where you can only be stubborn.
So we burn, This is our prize, Bruised and scarred, For all our lives.
Family Of The Year • Opuss № I