"Truth.
A flexible concept.
You could be deceitful or sugar coat . . .
I knew this guy.
Story-ever changing.
Metamorphosis.
He'd call me on the telephone.
(I was always telling him that he was my only one
and my heart was melting . . . )
Little did I know,
behind my back he was selling the same story . . .
the same words.
My heart sunk,
my heart is broken and I'm dead inside.
He'd never said he'd do it,
but he kinda wants me dead . . .
Tries to push me to my limit,
bringing strangers in my bed.
He pushed me to the limit,
played games inside my head.
Lying through his teeth, makes me sick . . .
whose lips has he been kissing?
or other parts instead?
If he could get away with it . . .
I'd be sinking to the bottom of a river in a can,
pushing daisies out the ground . . .
buried on my land.
If you say I got bad blood, you're the man at guessing.
I guess.
He's been around the land,
wouldn't surprise me a bit . . .
He'll screw you, wake up, and text his next victim."