Can You Die For Me Pleaseits strangeyou could dieand i wouldnt careyou could chokeand i would cheerthis feeling is saturatedand your weight lies heavyparalyzing on my chest.its oddhow in an instantyou reappearedand made me hate you even morei hope you burn in hell for the mistakes you've made.how i wish upon unfathomable sorrowmisery beyond your years.i am past grief for ages to come.numb, braindead, and wicked.isn't it so terribly ironic?Can you die for me please?
We Are Mad Here Anymorewhine all you'd likelook at what happenswhy go...when tears have fallen in flood?the sky was goldyet you went and broke itthese tears feel so naturalthe ones that cried for you...im the last of a dying breedtake your feet off my chest,and for once, let me breathe.this is for yourose petals that cut butter skina circus of fishsticksicebox nightmares.lipstick on the mirror,everything is freea snake in the grass with wingsoh pretty sheep:broken clowns cry hardest.look at the funnyman,he weeps alone for youtripping on bliss,choking on happinessbroken at the seams.Drowning is no longer fun.We're Mad Here Anymore
Chasing Memoriesirrelevance in splendorshe dances and never movesthese memories are like rosessweet into my embracecherished foreveras darkness in shadowslove written forever;bloodied across my face;and as i am deafi swallow all i tastebludgeoned for feelingtime at ridiculous pace.stars burnt to foreverpackaged and pulled from the skywith stones that no longer skipi weep because i cryand with hearts that no longer lovei have fallen...wasteful and shywith painful agonyi cut away my kneesbewildered and confusedcaught in familiar haste-it is history that i chaseChasing Memories
For Peacewith a dream i cannot rememberi am carved into my handsdistressed by the worldand its horribly shallow plansthis pain is never endingas trees bend and weepthe thought sits stagnantlike a lie on a twisted face.sweet november rainsthat spin to pretty oblivionall hope is lostpackaged in prissy boxespeace at all cost.for peace
Random Thinkswho cares?planesinthehorizon.what are you doing.cropdustingfields.where do you live?mountainsthatlooklikecastles.fear grips us allijustmaybeinsanethe sky is only gray because i think it to be.bloodblueinsideveinsaccess is denied.crushingmyboneswithmyownweightmy life is a lie.forgettingthatiexistto die is somewhat of a bore.paralyzedbysoundwalls that are heavenly white.fingersthatstranglesquandered living.skinmeltingawaygrowing up.hairthatgrowsontheinsidebabbling like a madman.bugsthattalkwalking on water.clothesthatwearusdripping like wax.phonesthattalkonusforgetting to wake up for days unend.mirrorstryingtofigureusoutcrawling through a keyhole.love.mice attached to your fingers.watchingmyownbirthcockroaches for breakfast.screaminginquiethallwayswater that burns and fire that soothes.whisperinginacrowdedfieldangels underwateri might as well.Random Thinks.
Dont Make A Soundin the horizonthe aztec castle buildsa pillar of smoke eruptingcursing the air about herour mechanical cough...crawling down the river,and through the fieldi feel such flaw,and sitting in silencei laugh at nothing;the madman of forever...grayed smoke of cloudy wastelandsbiting down on the sky,eaten up by blue birds singing;an icy cliff on the sun...i'll grow childishand watch you drown;breathing is optional -and we'll cry in unison...clawing out our eyeslife is easier when we're blind.Don't Make A sound
Tomorrows Birthplacea starlit horizon beckons me illit turns my stomach to sleepthe spit of my soul is on my tongueas mothers scream tonight...spoons bending on the moonas the celestial being is rapedthe virutous gods rejoicing in achievement;gaze in her eyesunfeeling and untimedshe is calculatingturned to stone,and broken awayhow does it feel when your blood runs backwards?cowardice in your veinsbitten again, and twice before;this wicked clock ticks to oblivionsweet words tempting in taste;drowned in scathing metaphor.forever as lucid chantsbeings that avoid pearly teethscreaming that no one can hear;the scent of skin pulled taughtbare and naked with steel nails.Tomorrow's Birthplace