I think I'm fucking up with the moments I still breath...
Is there a day where I can stop making a fool out of myself...because really, it's like I'm always making ass.
spoon out my heart, and only now I get why I loved these guys...they are my intense inter-feelings. This makes no sense, but I'm going with it, because I'm going out on a limb, and I'm going to say that I am a fuck up.
A plain and simply fuck up, fuck everything up...I even fucked up something that I personally just didn't not have...but then again, there's always this feelings from deep down telling me that's okay.
I want to jump off a bridge...because that would just be the most intense thing yet I would have done.
I wish I had this guys voice and vocals, then I could scream, sing and yell my heart out. just like that, "scream out my mistakes to the heavens."
Spoon out my-spoon out my heart.
Can I walk amongst the sudden intentions of this happiness? Can I float upon your tears sweltering the pain?
A whole bunch of screaming and I have this sudden urge to dress up in black all again, and jump about the house as if I was in a mosh pit.
I'd like to look at myself in the mirror and say, "hell honey, shut up! BEcause you're gorgeous."
But I never could because it's just not me, it's all a fake, all a fake, and you just got to learn to accept that disposition.
I'm just sp fucking upset of always fucking up the world for me...and running back to my little emo angst music and cutting myself in the room thinking the worst of me.
just want to fly...fly away from this maddness of acceptance from the unthinkable.
Spoon out my heart, just do it babe-wait you already have.
You'll fall as a victim too. You loose sight in becoming an influence...and I'll never sleep, I'll never sleep again.
before you kill your idols, kiss them good night.
He could go on and speak in poetry.
Speak in metaphors of all that matter- and still it will never mean anything to me, not yet, not like this.
before you kill your idols kiss them good night...I wonder if when he listens to this music he hears the same thing I hear...hate in change, agonizing anger in ones own self to appear as weak and selfish.
Keep the head up, and think positive. don't ruin a good batch of apples with a rotten one, you know what I mean?
Fuck! I threw in a dozen of rotten apples on the seed of one healthy apple...it wasn't even alive yet, not yet, and I killed it before anything could start, if it even ever would.
before you kill your idols, kiss them goodnighhhhhhhhhhhhhhttttttttttttttttttttttttt...(sing)
spoon out my heart, and only now I get why I loved these guys...they are my intense inter-feelings. This makes no sense, but I'm going with it, because I'm going out on a limb, and I'm going to say that I am a fuck up.
A plain and simply fuck up, fuck everything up...I even fucked up something that I personally just didn't not have...but then again, there's always this feelings from deep down telling me that's okay.
I want to jump off a bridge...because that would just be the most intense thing yet I would have done.
I wish I had this guys voice and vocals, then I could scream, sing and yell my heart out. just like that, "scream out my mistakes to the heavens."
Spoon out my-spoon out my heart.
Can I walk amongst the sudden intentions of this happiness? Can I float upon your tears sweltering the pain?
A whole bunch of screaming and I have this sudden urge to dress up in black all again, and jump about the house as if I was in a mosh pit.
I'd like to look at myself in the mirror and say, "hell honey, shut up! BEcause you're gorgeous."
But I never could because it's just not me, it's all a fake, all a fake, and you just got to learn to accept that disposition.
I'm just sp fucking upset of always fucking up the world for me...and running back to my little emo angst music and cutting myself in the room thinking the worst of me.
just want to fly...fly away from this maddness of acceptance from the unthinkable.
Spoon out my heart, just do it babe-wait you already have.
You'll fall as a victim too. You loose sight in becoming an influence...and I'll never sleep, I'll never sleep again.
before you kill your idols, kiss them good night.
He could go on and speak in poetry.
Speak in metaphors of all that matter- and still it will never mean anything to me, not yet, not like this.
before you kill your idols kiss them good night...I wonder if when he listens to this music he hears the same thing I hear...hate in change, agonizing anger in ones own self to appear as weak and selfish.
Keep the head up, and think positive. don't ruin a good batch of apples with a rotten one, you know what I mean?
Fuck! I threw in a dozen of rotten apples on the seed of one healthy apple...it wasn't even alive yet, not yet, and I killed it before anything could start, if it even ever would.
before you kill your idols, kiss them goodnighhhhhhhhhhhhhhttttttttttttttttttttttttt...(sing)