I'm coming down
But I'm still racing
Burnt out
Too many cigarettes

And my dreams are usually at full speed
In the arms of REM sleep
So tell me why, as my body was flyin'
I was in the wicked garden all night

I had a knife in my pocket in the closet
I had my clothes on in the bathtub
Sister tells me I need to run
But I missed the starting gun
And all old friends were in on it
A conspiracy, but I'm the theorist
And I remember the 7-11
And all the fish dying as they went to heaven
Sister tell me what I have to do
She says a train is coming through
Next thing I know, I'm at the bus stop
With nothing but a knife in my pocket

My subconscious feels really low
As these speed dreams move so slow
Burnt out, as I light another smoke
Why does it always come down to That motto

Have you ever noticed that
politicians are always
******* out of their mouths?
What exactly are they saying?
Buddha, Lao Tzu, Jesus
all said simply, pay attention
and try not to **** from your mouths.
Clearly, something got lost in translation.

  ~mce

"I promise,
We will be friends forever"
"Pinkie promise?"
"Yes"
As it turns out,
Forever lasts around two months

"I promise,
You can trust me"
"Pinkie promise?"
"Yes"
As it turns out,
Trust is a flexible thing

Pinkie promises,
You say,
Are a joke.
They don't matter.

They are still promises,
I think,
And break a little more

You should know:
You are why,
I don't trust
Pinkie promises,
*Anymore

Put on your costume,
And throw on your mask.
You've got to fit in.
It's your life's only task.

Don't ever be yourself.
That's far too lame.
You're simply too strange.
Let's all be the same.

Cut slits in your arms,
And starve yourself thin.
No matter the cost,
You have to fit in.

No one cares about you.
Who cares about joy?
Just make sure you're pretty,
To get the right boy.

Listen to their taunts,
And correct your mistakes.
Pretend you are smiling,
Ignore the "small" aches.

And when you are done,
Just go find a rope.
For we live in a world,
Where no one can cope.

Put on your costume,
And throw on your mask.
You've got to fit in.
It's your life's only task.

Don't be yourself.
That's ever too lame.
You're far too unique.
Let's all be the same.

He's nothing but a few words and a few stares fixed together.
He's nothing but some black ink on white paper.
This should be enough to throw him away from my mind.
But I keep him as closer as I can and I let him take me away.