Feb 27, 2006 10:49
So i always make my way back to a computer screen, an odd little comfort of mine it seems. i have no idea what i want to do today, no idea...
Might go paint the white roses red. Might go put a hole in my head.
Suicide has lost it's shine. Death isn't a comfort of mine.
I'd leave too much behind. And in no other world will i find.
What it really is i was loking for all along, a love that is mine.
Finger tips match and i pray that they find a prayer.
A cure to the darkness, some words to quench the thirst in our minds.
Bow your head and block the light, why do we always fight?
Someone knocks the milk and blood splatters all over the floor.
Some people get a cloth others just want to settle a score.
They fight over coco pops. A child goes hungry off to school.
We learn nothing, we breed our cereal killers, raise them on sin and society.
The bread and water of our issues.