loss on these city streets distant faces distant memories a city built upon the dead bring me the end that is long overdue the trouble with a mask is it never changes i was born to hustle roses down the avenues of the dead i suppose like others i have come through fire and sword life gone wrong i have listened to the sound of water running in tubs and longed to drown lost at sea head on crashes we are like a rose that never blooms it was a lack of hope that discouraged this man there are times when those eyes inside your brain stare back at you dying should come easy just like a fright train when your back is turned who wants to live forever i always dream of my death i concentrate on the bad things until theres nobody left dreams wont come true im stuck living through these petty days i cant see straight i cant go on
Posted on: Tue, 11 Jun 2013 20:31:21 +0000
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