Scars on our Arms
We've got scars,
On our arms,
But they're probably not,
What you think they are.
Nothing like lost love in a fight,
Or endless sleepless nights.
We don't like who we see,
Or what we think we could be,
So rather than walk into the sea,
We fall into the abyss,
The lovely shell of nothingness,
We change our reality day after day,
We've sold our souls,
To dig our own graves.
Running away every day,
from the monotony that life brings.
We've got scars on our arms,
To cover what we think we are,
To cover the way we think,
In order to clear their minds,
Some people drink,
Some people cut,
While we run,
People keep throwing their change,
Into that bottomless wishing well,
We've found our solution.
Why do others see this as a problem?
Everyone's found their own way to cope,
Some of them act, while others just hope.
We'll sit in our 'dens',
And do what we do best,
We've gotten used to it,
Seen so many of our soldiers die or quit,
There will always be another,
Ready to sell their soul.
We've got scars on our arms,
And answers to the endless questions,
I've got scars on my arms,
And I don't have to explain shit.
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