Baby, do you hear the breaking? Can you hear the walls being rebuilt? What's a love worth when dropped and scattered across pavement? What value does it hold if not all working parts can be mended? Fuck a replica cause the original was limited edition. Only had 2 ever made, no one else to experience the bliss made for me. Why did love take a double try? What does it feel like when one is the only? My heart has ghosted this house in efforts to numb the tears sent sailing, my struggle between holding on and letting go are stored in a bottle, halfway floating, yet sinking when the storm of my rage bellows thrtough the cloud ridden sky. A black night it is indeed, a black heart pumping my black blood through withered veins. Mind going blank, sound distancing itself, becoming more common with you. I reach hands, knuckles bruised and denial swollen. My face shows the pain my voice could never cry. Goodbye.