Sitting here thinking alone,
Peace and quiet have all gone home
the 'What if's have come to stay.

What if I break down?
What if I can’t be strong anymore?
What if I can’t find my perfect life?
What if I can’t trust again?
What if I can’t show the perfect person the real me
What if everyone only looks skin deep?
What if no one helps me with my habit?
What if everything goes wrong?
My thoughts don’t scare them so they’re here to stay until another day and another unsuspecting victim comes their way.

Hello, my name is Alice and I was killed on my twenty-fifth birthday by a good man with a bad soul. He was crazed and every year on his birthday he would go to his birth place and **** the number of people as the second digit of his age, if it was one like it was this year he would add up both digits and **** that many people. This year he was turning thirty-one so he killed four people; I was the fourth. I got in a couple of good hits, not enough to hurt him but jut enough to slow him down. Just as he was finishing he said that he knew that I wouldn't reach the afterlife, be it Heaven or Hell; I would walk the earth as a ghost. So he invited me to assist him in his birthday tradition; so now I wander the earth choosing victims for next year.
Goodbye... For now.

He goes in to battle an innocent boy
but
returns a battle hardened soldier
Nothing will ever be the same for him
- Explosions paint his eyelids
- His ears still ring from bombs
- He wakes up pulling a non-existent trigger
- He's seen the deepest parts of hell
- He's watched men die at his feet, pleading for mercy
and people still wonder 'what ever happened to that little boy?'
That little boy...
He stared death in the face and lived to tell the tale.
He fought for a country that could care less.
He watched his men die at the hands of the enemy.
He left himself over there in the dirt with the men that died.
He faced people who hated everything he stood for.

But he fought for you.

Never ask what happened to that little boy.
You wont like the answer.

As i lie here
tied to these chains
as the clock counts down
I realize time has taken love
but even angels never die
breaking free...
born to run
forever young
shouting in tongue,
BRING THE WAR
holding thee hands of the devil
a rebel by fate
starring death in the face
she frees the music;
for the tied and bound american slaves.