Punk rock pays my bills.
It's odd.
It's my life and I don't even know. Maybe because I don't want to, maybe because I'm not supposed to. It's been awhile sence I've used my voice but it's okay because I'm sure I've forgotten how to use it which makes it easier because this way I don't have to feel guilty for keeping it all hidden from you. Maybe one day soon I'll forgot I ever knew how to be honest or that at one point I went out of my way so you'd know how I felt and now I hope you forget my name, my face, the fact that I was ever born. I was here and then I burned, I writhed, Ashes dances and embers swirled and now the smoke is swirling and fading and soon not even the smell of burnt flesh will linger. It will rain and every ash will be washed away and years from now you will wonder why the smell of rain makes you want to cry.
It's my life and I don't even know. Maybe because I don't want to, maybe because I'm not supposed to. It's been awhile sence I've used my voice but it's okay because I'm sure I've forgotten how to use it which makes it easier because this way I don't have to feel guilty for keeping it all hidden from you. Maybe one day soon I'll forgot I ever knew how to be honest or that at one point I went out of my way so you'd know how I felt and now I hope you forget my name, my face, the fact that I was ever born. I was here and then I burned, I writhed, Ashes dances and embers swirled and now the smoke is swirling and fading and soon not even the smell of burnt flesh will linger. It will rain and every ash will be washed away and years from now you will wonder why the smell of rain makes you want to cry.