ripened from the vines of incompletion
i bleed a pool to give myself some form of returning glory...but its just pure muck. of course that seems to have been me for such a long time. the substance inside thats infested and infected is nothing more than the karma and buddles of past remarks....scratched into the surface to run through the course of poluttion that varies everyday.
is now just a diagnosis. but my prognosis is that these lyrics will always stick to my ribs and decay my inner strength. its the same through any light, it makes no difference. shading changes but not the inner murk.
i tell myself that this is just my luck. its this blood running the streams inside. you know it'd be the death of me.
and still ill cake some cosmetics on, and build a mask of confidence to hide through. and deliver all the right lines to make it seem like im fine. but underneath everything is already faded and burnt out. ill continue to ride out the descisons and decpetions of others, thats what is leftover.
im lost with the world i used to know. and now i feel all i have is myself...and i know im not in the dark. but the darkness inside exceeds any friendships or kind words. so i let the world around me, which is faster paced, and louder take anything they feel im useful for. to feel just a little better, from artificial or whatelse lays.
so go ahead steal, cheat, fuck, feel what you can use from me. it doesnt seem to matter what i need anymore. and i am written out of words to express and fortell what presance binds me to this filthy, cold, floor that is my only bed.
come closer to me. rip me up and finger through my remians..go ahead. you probablly could find something useful for me anyway. this chance will never be over. i am just left for you. but i dont know any of you. so try and bring me down, i swear i cant get much lower than this.
the traffic of the world is passing me by,
and the fast movement is peaceful,
but im still wasted efforts.
is now just a diagnosis. but my prognosis is that these lyrics will always stick to my ribs and decay my inner strength. its the same through any light, it makes no difference. shading changes but not the inner murk.
i tell myself that this is just my luck. its this blood running the streams inside. you know it'd be the death of me.
and still ill cake some cosmetics on, and build a mask of confidence to hide through. and deliver all the right lines to make it seem like im fine. but underneath everything is already faded and burnt out. ill continue to ride out the descisons and decpetions of others, thats what is leftover.
im lost with the world i used to know. and now i feel all i have is myself...and i know im not in the dark. but the darkness inside exceeds any friendships or kind words. so i let the world around me, which is faster paced, and louder take anything they feel im useful for. to feel just a little better, from artificial or whatelse lays.
so go ahead steal, cheat, fuck, feel what you can use from me. it doesnt seem to matter what i need anymore. and i am written out of words to express and fortell what presance binds me to this filthy, cold, floor that is my only bed.
come closer to me. rip me up and finger through my remians..go ahead. you probablly could find something useful for me anyway. this chance will never be over. i am just left for you. but i dont know any of you. so try and bring me down, i swear i cant get much lower than this.
the traffic of the world is passing me by,
and the fast movement is peaceful,
but im still wasted efforts.