TranquilRadio - Sweetie Run Lyrics

I hate your poetry, it's brittle and bare
Every line's tangled up like you don't even care
It doesn't work, it never rhymes
Just madness dressed up, wasting my time

A diary of drugs, the muse you abuse
Pushing pens and excuses, you're just confused
Writing about how you're a f*cking loser
You call it genius, I call it a phase
But it's only yourself that you praise

At the top of the first page, it should really read:
"This belongs to a narcissist, always in need, always writing bad poetry"
Your verses don't sing, they just preach and they pry
I hate your f*cking poetry, and I hate your dead eyes


Ink bleeding out from the cracks in your mind
Pretending you're twisted, a poet defined
You think you're creative, I say you're just spent
Worn out by your ego, used up and bent

Lines about nothing, a mask for the pain
But no soul behind it, just the same sad refrain
You're jaded and faded, and it's clear to me
A journal of a psychopath for all to see


At the top of the first page, it should really read:
"This belongs to a narcissist, always in need, always writing bad poetry"
Your verses don't sing, they just preach and they pry
I hate your f*cking poetry, and I hate your dead eyes


Ripped from the pages of a heart gone numb
Just scribbles and drivel, a beat on the drum
Tell yourself it's art, yeah, tell yourself lies
But I know it's hollow beneath the disguise

Your rhymes are splinters, jagged and dull
Filling blank pages just to feel whole
But there's nothing inside, just a faded mirage
Ink-stained paper's your last sabotage



At the top of the first page, it should really read:
"This belongs to a narcissist, always in need, always writing bad poetry"
Your verses don't sing, they just preach and they pry
I hate your f*cking poetry, and I hate your dead eyes


So for every poem you write, I'll write ten more
Your words don't cut deep; they're just wasted lore
If I learn anything from your poetry, it's that you're hollow inside
A narcissistic soul with nowhere to hide

Your ink is dry, your muse is gone
And I'm done reading; I'm moving on
Keep scratching your thoughts, keep chasing your high
But I won't be there to watch you lie