Making Something Out of Nothing

As the psilocybin sinks in to soak my silent masquerade
The only thing left to think is the thought of your lips
And their beautiful acid rain
It's become the placebo to the world
Everyone thinks it's for them, but I know it's not meant to serve
Only to surf on the sound waves in which I profess my love
For you, my mannequin.
Dressed up in the same smile every day, no new clothes,
The only thing to feel are the feelings that deteriorate
From misguidance, misconception, misplaced trust
But that's when I profess my love
At the point in which your mountain becomes a valley.
That is when I profess my love.

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