Swing On

For who am I to speak of what're unsaid, when they are kept secret for a reason. 
And who am I to speak ill of another's victory, when I've given them the chance for a better shot. 

And how should I say that I am hurt, when i was always good at pretending.

And how could I possibly completely let go, when all the beautiful memories hurt me more than the painful ones.   

So I'll rock this hammock a little stronger, hold on tighter and believe in my pretentions. 

Until they become the only reality that we know of.