Save Face

Should I turn my words around, flip them up, or dumb them down,
so that you can remember the 28th of September, maybe it's meaningless now.
I held his hand, cried inside, pretended I had lied, on the stand I died, with no one to confide.
Did you think of how much that hurt, when you laid me in the dirt, left me there in that robe, with no way to call home.
Your baby in my gut, like salt inside a cut, all for what?

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