The Fall Of Troy. Mouths Like Sidewinder Missiles. Zeneszám

All this time alone, I cannot go home.
Artificial friend, you reap what you sow!
You said, it was a little of somethin' else, I hope that you lose it all,
Cause you were the one that made me feel better, in such a fucked up better way!
I don't understand what you say...
All this time you've known, such condescending tone, taste the tears of men.
Did it make you feel better then!?