And The Way To KillWhere's everyone going?
<life></life>
Precious Garbagewe are on our way back now in tandem we whisper the spoils of our war as candle lighters and letter writers we still won't enjoy the ride home you get nothing in returnPrecious Garbage
the drums sound to paint pictures of things portraits of things we don't understand in glorious colors that i can't see
let me go back to sleep
we have headed into the fray now synchronizing thought into propaganda as late sleepers and logic reapers we still won't enjoy the ride home you get nothing in return
the drums sound to paint pictures of things beautifu
Motherjust when you think all the fallen fall on me and all the ashes make the world different i want to see it the same way i used to it takes me all the way back to then when i could never have enoughMother
when you used to take my hand and guide pointing me away from the demons in life
just when i think all the broken break on me and all the ashes make the world so cloudy i wish i could see it the same way we used to it takes me all the way back to that when i could never get enough
when you used to take my hand and guide pointing me away from everything
Cuddling Neurosisfrom the minds of a million maniacs you weren't the right kind of thing to be fifty love songs later and i'm one bullet short of an antidoteCuddling Neurosis
would it kill you to call? it makes you feel so good to run would it kill you to look at me?
i hope it does
from the hearts of a billion lunatics you weren't the right woman for me eighty misdials later and i'm 7 digits short of an answer
would it kill you to call? it makes you feel so good to run would it kill you to look at me?
i hope it does
waltz to the songs he pl
MeetingsRapport of the evening is the scars of late Please ignore them,Meetings
Although they do not demonstrate the emptiness inside I feel. Anymore it's all the same. So all I'm asking of you emotions Is not that much to complain.
Except for your heartfelt apology. Anger will subside with time Just like the worthlessness has departed. Or at least I assumed so. My self hate has come again For an encore of scars Or meaningless debates Of flesh and blood, Skin and rage The metal and my fingers Rapping at your cage.
Yet if I only let you s
--
Number of Times Mistaken For A Guy: 37
[Recommend good anatomy books, yes?]
Previous Page12345...Next Page