This Song Is Called کے بول

I am the speaker but what is responsibility? This is beg of you, build me brick upon brick. High tides; waves of hypocrisy. I didn't think the clock struck more than twelve times. I decided to name her insomnia. "Her teeth (show) like white seeds in a scarlet fruit" This I must tell you, old friend: fear beauty. This is meager, this is feeble. She was only a fiction and my creation