Tel - Strangers

This damned cold city, see how the stars burn out
above the blur of street lights; my home is no longer yours.
I banished my desires for the taste of smoke
on a stranger’s broken lips, making my throat grow sore.

I have become your sickness; I am what you chose to deny.
When you see me walking alone, down this road we once tread along,
remember my heart is drained; I can no longer be recognized.
You wished for me to die, so I died a thousand times.

Stand by and watch as the world swallows me whole.
Oh, how I dread the sound of nobody coming back.
I have become the curse; I am the venom that yearns
to course throughout your veins; terminal, unable to cure.

You gave me your world, so I gave you my wounds.
Now taste the agony that I feel, carry on my burden forever.