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外链地址
http://www.eemp3.com/audiofile/9d94863c2014df668f782f10abc24dcd.mp3
点击复制I smiled.
You thought I meant it.
You never looked behind the grin.
I held the door, I bit my tongue
You praised my grace, said I was"young"
But every nod, every fake laugh
Was a loaded gun behind the glass
You called it manners — I called it chains
Dressed up silence, hiding the flames
I said"thank you" through my teeth
While your words cut miles underneath
You don’t hear the voice I choke
Don’t smell the dreams your fire broke
You saw nice — I wore the mask
But rage don’t die, it learns to last
Polite rage in porcelain hands
Breaking rules you don’t understand
Dressed in smiles, veiled in grace
But poison blooms beneath this face
Polite rage — it’s quiet, sharp
A paper cut turned bleeding art
You never saw the war I staged
While sipping tea and acting caged
I clapped on cue, I played it sweet
While plotting how I’d never retreat
You saw a girl with lowered eyes
But never caught the sharp replies
You called me soft — I called it calm
I turned your slurs into my psalm
You talked, I listened, made it gold
Now I’m the fire you can't hold
Polite rage in velvet tones
I carved my worth in breaking bones
You wore your pride like it's divine
But I wore scars you can't define