They say they love him. They say they'd do anything for him. They say they want to be his forever.
On the outside, I pretend I'm interested, enchanted by their stories that probably never happened.
On the inside, I laugh, because I know there's nothing there.
Those words are useless.
I don't pity them, you don't. I don't exactly understand. I never have.
They tell me their secrets, all about their life.
They tell me all of the secrets that are supposed to make me feel bad for them.
It's pathetic.
I have secrets too. Secrets the world doesn't know. Secrets they don't know.
They aren't just secrets like "In first grade I wet the bed," no, they're deeper than that.
Dangerous secrets, that aren't about me
If they got out, no one could ever look at you the same.
It's hard to keep so many serious secrets inside, believe me, it is, but you get used to it!
Want to know how many there are? Five! Five scary secrets, floating around in my mind, hitting the walls of my brain, begging to get out
Am I trustable? Who knows! I could let one slip right now! Let's hope I don't, but you know, you can't trust everybody you see….
Wan to know what they are? Should I tell you? Maybe I should, but I don't know if I can trust you. Secrets are secrets, unless they're revealed. I might keep mine, I might not…