(no subject)
i'd like to change my plea.....
to guilty. im the only guilty one in the room.
i was somebody else once. strong and hard, a distant memory of a guy that took too many chances. i sang for the crowd, broke myself in half to be loud enough to be heard. i remember walking after the shows, how the air felt prickling across my skin. how every sound in the city seemed to be aiming right at me.
cold nights on the street, truying to keep the dream alive. i thought we were special, cool cars, cool guys, and respect. hand built. i fenced spare parts to pay the overhead. but it never wasnt fun, it was always worth it. if i could id waste my youth with you guys again
everyday was another plan, another great idea , everynight i still try to s leep in the same small town sound. tattoo needles snap me back to the surface, then some other girl drags me back into the deep end . i didnt think it would change so fast. i didnt know it would end
the familiar faces start to fade. i didnt notice at first , the crowd was so thick. a baby here and an addiction, there, an arrest , a wife, even a school. one by one we vanished. all thats left now are the young ones, the new kids, who watched on in wonder. theyre still out there you know, trying to be who they think we were.
and here i am. on the outside again. seperated, disconnected, severed. i was finnally led asrtay. let them think me a fool. i would agree, except , sometimes, now i can sleep. the scene, this living thing, was only the stage where i set my scene. i am no actor, my friend, no fallisy(?), no prop, i am the story line, the very thing you came to see.
purpose for once. a pressure point. a shot in the dark at a shadow. i will not turn on the lights if you promise not to leave.
to guilty. im the only guilty one in the room.
i was somebody else once. strong and hard, a distant memory of a guy that took too many chances. i sang for the crowd, broke myself in half to be loud enough to be heard. i remember walking after the shows, how the air felt prickling across my skin. how every sound in the city seemed to be aiming right at me.
cold nights on the street, truying to keep the dream alive. i thought we were special, cool cars, cool guys, and respect. hand built. i fenced spare parts to pay the overhead. but it never wasnt fun, it was always worth it. if i could id waste my youth with you guys again
everyday was another plan, another great idea , everynight i still try to s leep in the same small town sound. tattoo needles snap me back to the surface, then some other girl drags me back into the deep end . i didnt think it would change so fast. i didnt know it would end
the familiar faces start to fade. i didnt notice at first , the crowd was so thick. a baby here and an addiction, there, an arrest , a wife, even a school. one by one we vanished. all thats left now are the young ones, the new kids, who watched on in wonder. theyre still out there you know, trying to be who they think we were.
and here i am. on the outside again. seperated, disconnected, severed. i was finnally led asrtay. let them think me a fool. i would agree, except , sometimes, now i can sleep. the scene, this living thing, was only the stage where i set my scene. i am no actor, my friend, no fallisy(?), no prop, i am the story line, the very thing you came to see.
purpose for once. a pressure point. a shot in the dark at a shadow. i will not turn on the lights if you promise not to leave.