Victory

Rose-colored glasses, they couldn't shield anything,
Golden flames that burned, but couldn't heal me from within,
Disperse the heat, let the cold sweep in,
Burst in languid light, as my head and body spin.

When your skin doesn't feel like home,
And I don't wanna break down and feel alone,
This body only knows,
How to hold back more than it shows.

A superstition that found itself in the way
Of a freed premonition that could've helped me escape,
It's the wrong kind of victory disguised as a breakthrough,
It's hard when nothing fits like it used to.

When your skin doesn't feel like home,
And I don't wanna break down and feel alone,
This body only knows,
How to hold back more than it shows.

Hairs on my hand stand on end,
The spine of this truth repel and suspend,
Act like bars but should help me transcend.
Hairs on my hand stand on end,
The spine of this truth like cracks in the wind,
Act like birds but should help me transcend.

When your skin doesn't feel like home,
And I don't wanna break down and feel alone,
This body only knows,
How to hold back more than it shows.