lirik lagu ivmare - smile.
[verse 1]
you demanded i pluck out my th~rn for your ease
to sand down my edges and smile when i bleed
you stitched velvet lies where the marrow ran dry
wove silence in threads through the back of my spine
the roses are painted, to hide that they’ve died
[verse 2]
you asked for a harvest of polished regrets
for gardens that bloom from the graves we forget
you crowned me in ashes, callеd it a prize
demanded i dancе while you shattered my mind
[pre~chorus]
but your hands are all splinters, your words taste like rust
and the kingdom you’re building is crumbling to dust
[chorus]
you lacquer your sorrow in chemical gold
dress it in ribbons and sell it as “hope,”
you brandish your ruin like a rose made of glass
all shine from a distance, all blood when it cracks
you begged me to hollow, to sweeten your plague
but i’d rather starve than to dine at your grave
[verse 3]
you smother your failures with porcelain dreams
drown in delusion just to m~ffle the screams
you pray to reflections that buckle and warp
you stifle your hunger, and call it rapport
[verse 4]
you swallowed your sorrows to sweeten the crowd
tied up your heartstrings and wore them like crowns
you built yourself altars to feel less alone
and worshiped those who only break on their own
[bridge]
you practiced your smile
you rehe~rs~d your preach
yet you still have to beg me to swallow your bleach
your smile is perfect but dead underneath
[chorus]
you lacquer your sorrow in chemical gold
dress it in ribbons and sell it as “hope,”
you brandish your ruin like a rose made of glass
all shine from a distance, all blood when it cracks
you begged me to hollow, to sweeten your plague
but i’d rather starve than to dine at your grave
[verse 5]
i won’t carve my name in your mausoleum halls
won’t ghost~stitch my soul to your crumbling walls
won’t clip off my wings just to fatten your pride
won’t carve at my heart till it fits in your lies
[pre~chorus]
sewing up cries with grief~bitten hands
d~mning your children just as you planned
[chorus]
you lacquer your sorrow in chemical gold
dress it in ribbons and sell it as “hope,”
you brandish your ruin like a rose made of glass
all shine from a distance, all blood when it cracks
you begged me to hollow, to sweeten your plague
but i’d rather starve than to dine at your grave
[outro]
i’d rather starve than to dine at your grave
i’d rather be nothing than one of your saints
porcelain ornaments you can’t even name
just another wilted rose by any other name
this game that you’ve made, has you starved in your grave
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