we're living in repetitian
content in the same old shtick again
now the routine's turning to contetion
like a productian line going a over and a over and a over, roller coaster
now i cannot speak, i lost my voice
speechless and redundant
cause' i love you's not enough
i'm lost for words
choreagraped adn lack of passion
prototypes of what we were
went full cicle 'til i'm nauseous
taken for granted now
i waste it, faked it, ate it, now i hate it
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