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Game Over - Y.G.I.O.

de Tilt

It got to resembling a vaudeville show, the show of shows, such comedy
unserpassed as juvenile theatrics go, but who am I to tell you to
contain yourself? And who are you to tell me to control it? When we both
have prepared so carefully. One day you'll know we never meant eachother
harm in any way, one day you'll know we never meant eachother sorrow,
gotta keep my distance. I keep sifting through the loot to find the
stairs, this business burning to the ground, I can't look back my
hindsight seems to be impared, my outlook has no holds to see out. It's
starting to hurt when I open my arms too wide, a milky white haze
invades my vision, my lungs are heavy with your presence as if you were
standing right behind me, and I can't bring myself to turn around, gotta
keep my distance.

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