We live a lie, we live as fools. We live like this to find the truth.

We hold these hearts, tainted and battered. We are dying lonely, but why does it matter?

These strings that tie, the knots they make can try and try to love, create.

But twisted braids and tempted cuts will never heal to combine us.

So we are left to separate, holding on to jilted hate.

And within our love, this weakness grows. We lived as one, but we loved alone.