They tell me you need me, someone to hold onto, a sign of faith and hope.
They tell me you're dying again, your heart filled with cement, your lungs heavy with smog.
They tell me all it will take to save you is a kiss, soft and simple but to save a life.
If I give in, give myself, give my life, you will live again.
But your cement will fill my heart and your smog will choke my lungs.
So tell me, who's life is better to be lived? Who shall die? The tragic martyr or dauntless hero?
Tell me, who's life is less tragic lost? Who shall live? A rejuvenated miracle or a heartless villian?













