There I go again I've exposed myself And there I lie Before her and to myself Vulnerable again It's a game I play How could I resist her? Here I go again Trying to kiss her And I only kid myself Could I be her mister? But the train has passed Opportunities I could have taken If I were not a better man Now I just miss her
Replays of deception torching my soul images of rejection added to my attic of unwelcomed thoughts I can still feel the wetness from your last caress on my neck Staring into your eyes I knew it was the kiss of death There was never a "good-bye" Just the "I'll talk to you tomorrow".. bullsh!t lie Tomorrow came and showed it's ass My heart stopped pumping that day I was denied entry from a person who intent was to never stay..
Black and white All innocent before thy sight Elegant beings with their first bellow The sign of life fluxing through their veins But little do they know That their fate is nothing but a desolate fellow.
Abandoned by their creators And left in the hands of vultures A tiny box as their companion And the wails of a frightened infant The only route to a savior But a new hen approaches with a bad omen.
She rescues the creature from nature’s savageness Only to be raised by Cinderella’s wicked stepmother Together with...
From the first mere thought of you as I see you standing there under the dimming lights, as you sing a song from within the depth of your heart reminding me of a hummingbird. That once use to sing to me from upon the tree just before she would, take flight off to somewhere in the distant skies with the beauty of her soul flying high. For it is through this transformation of my subconsciousness, I became mesmerize by the sound of your sweet tender voice, as your words capture my heart through each lovely beautiful musical note. Reaching into the depth of my deepness within my heart and soulful...
People have always told me that I give too much away, And they're not always wrong. Deep down in my soul there is a cavern, filled with papier mâché walls, And memories placed in a descending order to end it all.
Down below my soul there is a hole filled with cotton and fake paper trees, It's what i used to feel whole and pretend that I'm actually me. In the cavern of my being, anxiety lives in a burrow ridden with bile and tears, And she bargains each night with something masked as desire.