I've tasted what it's like. I don't dig it. I could heal the lesser bites, so they won't scar, but why bother. Like to feel the bumps and bruises, so
Is today fact or fiction? You've told me the plot and expect me to still play the role. You talk round in circles, despite the shape and reputation that
Am I frightened of this town? Just a little. I'm a frightened of all the things that it makes me do. I've been invited to a part with demons and dickheads
Why bother? I feel you coming from a million miles away. You're putting on your spin. Like you're entitled to whatever I create. I'll step aside. You
Feral children of the night. You're hungry. I get it. It's all been fashioned, so get in line; or draw one. It don't matter. You got another itch to
I'm the escapist, scrutinized to hell and I'm trapped under water. The Caustics; they embrace me. I'm bleeding through my wrists as you stare in fascination
I'm on a quest for normalcy, balance, respect and mystery. Rechargeable with cells and chips and such. Flooded with information. Refresh rate the face
It happens to me from time to time. I realize I've waited too long. I pretend to turn the blind eye. Before I know it. I've lost sight of it all, even
make some changes. In the low. I don't want it this way. I gotta pull my self together; ripped and frayed. Unconscious of the patches I've earned. More
see - while I was on the run - what I've done and who I've done it with. I won't forget. It's like Philadelphia, 1999; skipped a few more classes to
I don't feel more dead buried deeper, or more joyful when I'm touching the sky. I'm just "Stuck in the middle". and I pierce the earth to be an individual
