As if all the shit on earth is rosy
And somehow camouflaged
By cheap plastic frames and a two-bit glue job.
Take them off? The cheek!
To see the world for all it's gore
To see your colours true unfold?
I'm too naive, to weak.
Rather let me see through fuchsia fantasy
View your malice with a hue of blush
It may hurt more this way
But dear lord what's the rush.
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