faces look ugly when you're alone
Television children fed. Living dead. Bullet strikes the helmet's head. It's all over for the unknown soldier.
Trying to reach you is like trying to hear a soft whisper of desire in the midst of a thunder storm. I just don't know what you want from me. So few of times I've been close to giving up. But it's not a feeling of panic or relentless, not a feeling of rejection nor change of heart. It's simply "us". This is simply our story. I'm trying. Try with me.
All my friends have abandoned me for the trip of a lifetime. I was supposed to be with them. But I have set my priorities and my goals, and for the first time in my life, I'm not backing out. Not for anything.
The near future possibilities seem unattainable. Brushing against my fingertips just slightly. Like a cripple out of his wheelchair reaching for something, anything, to stabilize. I'm almost there. I can see it, feel it, and almost fucking taste it. This is for me. This all is for me. If you say I've changed, you're damn right I've changed. But hopefully you'll see it for the better. I can't please everyone. Call me selfish, call me whatever you want, but I am doing what I set out to do and what everyone else told me was foolish and unrealistic. It's actually happening. Hello.
It's sad and it's sweet. We all knew it complete. Back when I wore young women's clothes. Sing us a song. Sing us a song tonight. We're all in the mood for a melody.
Trying to reach you is like trying to hear a soft whisper of desire in the midst of a thunder storm. I just don't know what you want from me. So few of times I've been close to giving up. But it's not a feeling of panic or relentless, not a feeling of rejection nor change of heart. It's simply "us". This is simply our story. I'm trying. Try with me.
All my friends have abandoned me for the trip of a lifetime. I was supposed to be with them. But I have set my priorities and my goals, and for the first time in my life, I'm not backing out. Not for anything.
The near future possibilities seem unattainable. Brushing against my fingertips just slightly. Like a cripple out of his wheelchair reaching for something, anything, to stabilize. I'm almost there. I can see it, feel it, and almost fucking taste it. This is for me. This all is for me. If you say I've changed, you're damn right I've changed. But hopefully you'll see it for the better. I can't please everyone. Call me selfish, call me whatever you want, but I am doing what I set out to do and what everyone else told me was foolish and unrealistic. It's actually happening. Hello.
It's sad and it's sweet. We all knew it complete. Back when I wore young women's clothes. Sing us a song. Sing us a song tonight. We're all in the mood for a melody.