everything, but not a thought of you. and I lied alot to, maybe to forget you

we are the children who can't be saved

shadows settle on the place that you left
our minds are troubled by the emptiness
destroy the middle, it's a waste of time
from the perfect start to the finish line

and if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones
cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs
setting fire to our insides for fun
collecting names of the lovers that went wrong
the lovers that went wrong

we are the reckless
we are the wild youth
chasing visions of our futures
one day we'll reveal the truth
that one will die before he gets there

and if you're still bleeding, you're the lucky ones
cause most of our feelings, they are dead and the are gone
we are setting fire to our insides for fun
collecting pictures from the flood that wrecked our home
it was a flood that wrecked this

well I've lost it all, I'm just a silouhette
a lifeless face that you'll soon forget
my eyes are damp from the words you left
ringing in my head, when you broke my chest

and if you're in love then you are the lucky one
cause most of us are bitter over someone
setting fire to our insides for fun
to distract our hearts from ever missing them
but I'm forever missing him

and you caused it 

all you ever did was wreck me

we are who we are

denn ein wrack ist ein ort, an dem ein schatz schlummert

I know you're scared right now

maybe you miss

someone

maybe your heart hurts a little

or a lot

or maybe you're not quite sure

of who you are

or what you want

but that feeling you

want back

the one where it doesn't seem

like the whole world is against

you

it's still here

it never really left

and one day you will realise

that the only person

who can find it again

is you

monster

you were my conscience, so solid
now you're like water
and we started drowning
not like we'd sink any farther
but I'll let my heart go
it's somewhere down at the bottom
I'll get a new one
come back for the hope you've stolen

one day you may realize that you've lost the moon while counting the stars

"They slipped briskly
into an intimacy 
from which they
never recovered."
F. Scott Fitzgerald