• Trust, trust, trust.
    I tell the one person I trust.
    She tells, he tells. They Know, oh no.

    Betrayal stabs my chest.

    Now they say, "She said it!" "No, he did!" back and forth.
    I don't want to know who it was, for all it's worth.

    Trust the family, don't trust the family.

    Pretend she didn't make that deal.
    Pretend those bruises aren't real.
    Pretend he didn't just whisper your name.
    Pretend you don't want to slap her across the face.

    The beautiful monster pretends there is nothing wrong.
    Oh, how I love that true facade.

    Everyone knows, even the trees.
    See how restless they are in the breeze?

    It's a bittersweet, hateful love that we all have,
    just enough to drive us mad.
    But in the end of my days, the very last of my days, I'll forget what they said.

    When I'm on my death bed, who's holding my hand,
    but the very traitors of my land.
    They really do care, they really do cry, so I'll smile one last time.
    When I'm gone they'll forget all the wrong,
    because they really do care, and they really will smile
    when they remember the love we shared for that little while,
    while we had that facade.