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It's proving me wrong, and crashing me down,
and making me sick, forcing me to fall.
It hits me hard, shatters my bones, makes me shiver,
The strong stench of suspicion, the eyesore.
Pushing my face in the ground, my feet in the air,
flipping me over like a corpse in the sun,
like a slice of life in the pan, and down.
Cutting the cord between logic and instinct, ripping me in two,
running, and retreating, towards, and away from, the danger.
Hope we live, or it end like this,
and because you made this decision, your shoulders buckle from the guilt.
There is a shimmer of escape, and i am pulled towards it, But i know,
It will burn out before i reach it - and i can continue denying it,
And i can't stand the odds, and even the chances, that i'll last,
But the lull inside me makes it certain,
i will.
and making me sick, forcing me to fall.
It hits me hard, shatters my bones, makes me shiver,
The strong stench of suspicion, the eyesore.
Pushing my face in the ground, my feet in the air,
flipping me over like a corpse in the sun,
like a slice of life in the pan, and down.
Cutting the cord between logic and instinct, ripping me in two,
running, and retreating, towards, and away from, the danger.
Hope we live, or it end like this,
and because you made this decision, your shoulders buckle from the guilt.
There is a shimmer of escape, and i am pulled towards it, But i know,
It will burn out before i reach it - and i can continue denying it,
And i can't stand the odds, and even the chances, that i'll last,
But the lull inside me makes it certain,
i will.
There have been no replies to this thread yet.
It's proving me wrong, and crashing me down,
and making me sick, forcing me to fall.
It hits me hard, shatters my bones, makes me shiver,
The strong stench of suspicion, the eyesore.
Pushing my face in the ground, my feet in the air,
flipping me over like a corpse in the sun,
like a slice of life in the pan, and down.
Cutting the cord between logic and instinct, ripping me in two,
running, and retreating, towards, and away from, the danger.
Hope we live, or it end like this,
and because you made this decision, your shoulders buckle from the guilt.
There is a shimmer of escape, and i am pulled towards it, But i know,
It will burn out before i reach it - and i can continue denying it,
And i can't stand the odds, and even the chances, that i'll last,
But the lull inside me makes it certain,
i will.
and making me sick, forcing me to fall.
It hits me hard, shatters my bones, makes me shiver,
The strong stench of suspicion, the eyesore.
Pushing my face in the ground, my feet in the air,
flipping me over like a corpse in the sun,
like a slice of life in the pan, and down.
Cutting the cord between logic and instinct, ripping me in two,
running, and retreating, towards, and away from, the danger.
Hope we live, or it end like this,
and because you made this decision, your shoulders buckle from the guilt.
There is a shimmer of escape, and i am pulled towards it, But i know,
It will burn out before i reach it - and i can continue denying it,
And i can't stand the odds, and even the chances, that i'll last,
But the lull inside me makes it certain,
i will.