Blue moon, follows me, follows you.

Pain, distain, wither and fade
ugly, too skinny, twentieth century junkie,
alone, thoughtless, guilt ridden,
provoked, taunted, earn't it...  
I want to be
the lessons that never taught me
the qustions, whats answers didn't have enough meaning,
all the things that i miss...

Sunday bliss, no time on your wrist,
the love that wants to burst,
the empowered thirst, and whats worse
you cant find the words to describe it
we try, and most fail
to express whats too frail
this is the chorus of your life
and i will certainly not survive
what ever you do, what ever you say,
i will remember the time, I'll remember the day
Santa Monica on the snooze, that day that i met you
we synced like when lifes on the move
its somewhere inside you
dying to come out
so what about a confession
about your life and past obsessions
the define you
and theres nothing you can do
except hit the snooze
let the depression become you
take your life by the wrists
let bleed and succeed
at making something of yourself
when theres nothing else left
do what you do best....

The places that i have been
hell won't ever have seen
the death that arose,
from musty, mossy, fields of green
the grave site of my soul and the spring...
that i came alive
under a night of stars and the bright midnight
you taught me how to survive
how to be a man
how to take all you can

Such as this...
the blue moon what follows you
the day you caught the bus
with a working mans grip and no fuss
do you have a grip on yourself
you have to and nobody can pick a soul to choose
its inside you, and you should follow...
you never know what you may find,
a fucking golden landmine, a sense that theres a sign
that tells me, i am all what i want to be