All these insignificant rambles,
They seem to come out in loops.
I've got thousands of ideas on scruffy paper,
Just incase you want some proof.

This book I'm writing has no reason,
It's not even the depressive season,
But these rambles always swarm back.

I would like to buy a house,
A house built up on Mars.
So you and I could laze about,
Just looking up at the stars.

And we'd talk about stupid things,
We'd just ramble and ramble on.
Until our voices get hoarse,
And we can see it's almost dawn.

We'd make friends with the Martians,
And play football in the sky.
We'd live our life's obliviously happy,
With no humans to ask "why?"

My love we've found a place of home.
A home where we can be,
Ourselves and ourselves alone,
Smiling Infinitely.

You're cutting off all my oxygen,
With your hand around my neck,
My eyes are going bloodshot,
The tighter your grip gets.

I would listen to your story,
Agree now and again,
But you don't seem to realise,
I killed my dearest friend.

Changed her into everything,
I wanted her to be,
Then put a bullet through her head,
Upon the count of three.

You think of me as average,
The way I've always been,
That's only because I pray to God,
To keep my soul clean.

And I know I am being morbid,
Trying far too hard,
But I still own a piece of her heart,
Kept in a glass jar.

One day the heart will grow moudly,
Then loose it's rhythm and beat,
But hopefully That will be the day,
I no longer have to breathe.

A true survivor,
These rivers are deep.
"Beware of the sinking mud."
A sign covered and decayed with dust.
I'm up to the knees in troubles,
As the mud sinks into my pores.

They travel in packs,
The ring leader the main culprit.
These "lovely girls" with their scowling eyes,
Their latest victim unaware.
Their claws are sharp,
Voices vile,
Seems that being a ***** is truly in style.

Just underneath the screaming,
Whispers gently caress your ears.
They tell you all the secrets,
The ones that are important,
Rather then the screaming ones,
Who tell you what your eager ears want to hear.

You want to hear the gossip,
Everything that appears.
Why are you so content on listening to the screaming?
When the whispers are the beautiful ones.
Shut your lips and focus on hearing,
Listen to the silence that sings exquisitely.

Give me some time,
I need to understand.
Is it my heart that you want?
Or just for people to see you holding my hand?
I told you not to rush,
These things take time.
But you simply grinned,
Saying you were mine.