You know, it's funny,
I had that ringing in my ear.
You know, that funny feeling,
A tinglin' in my ear.
So I went a snoopin'
And it's what I've always feared.
He was creepin'
He was sleepin'
With all the volunteers.

"Volunteer?"

With all the volunteers.

"Volunteers! What?"

Yes, with all the volunteers.
He was rollin'
He was dippin'
He was flippin'
He was eatin'-

"Volunteers!"

With all the volunteers.

There was a time of Twos and Fours.
The Dawn of love blinded by naiveté, never to endure.
When a breach of confusion commenced the cold war.

Four, strained by antipathy, refused to vocalize.
Two with contrition that's finally realized.

There once was a time of Twos and Fours.
A time that passed but you can not ignore.
Now there will be zero, none, no more.

Vous êtes la douce lueur de l’Aube, comme elle scintille à travers l’herbe humide,
Comme des étoiles sous mes pieds.
C’est le paradis que je peux atteindre
Toujours avec toi, mon ange, à mes côtés.

Every morning I wake with the half-risen sun shining through
my blinds
It glistens beautifully off the tears streaming from my eyes

Every morning I wake, I remember the olden days
Just a boy crying for his lost balloon
With such a big imagination, it could have sent you to the moon

Oh how I would give anything to turn back time

Every morning, I'm mourning

Baby brother, I miss you.




             It's
       because   I
   w a s       SELFISH
          A N D
     r a n     a w a y


                                   Yo u          could
                                   H A V E  B E E N
                                           SAVED


            IF         OnlY           I
                     Stayed
IN                                                  MY
   ­                  P L A C E

                                                              ­                                                                 ­             
                                                   ­                                               



              ­                                                                 ­                    I'm   sorry

I am like a roller coaster
A twisted creaky track
Taking you on my ups and downs
Never holding back
Looping through the disarray
Of an introverted maniac

You hit that final drop
Around the last bend
Then to a full force stop
Some will have fun with me
Others maybe not
But in the end,
They all well get off
And leave me without a thought

I am like a roller coaster
A twisted creaky track
Behold the out of service sign
Sorry, no more riders.
I'm now completely wracked

There is no sympathy in this world.

           Not a care for that little girl.
     Don't get stuck
     Do not ask for help,
                   For they will look down on you.
      You will be left on the shelf.
    

Get back in the game
    Do what you must
Be like me and pick yourself up
    Heal those scars
           Tape them up
    Forget their names  
           And the pain it brings up,
    It doesn't matter how
             Just get back in the game,

There is no sympathy in this world.

                       Fixed.



             Bullet to the brain.

~~~Excuses of a different kind~~~

"I have a story to tell ...
              But they probably already know it.
                                We have all been through hell." -

"Open your mouth and just let it out...
              But it's in the past.
                                I'm ok now?" -

"Just say it and lift this burden, let me free...
              But I would if I could.
                                It's you and not me." -

The pain will never go away
Like raindrops on my cheeks
Flash flood, into a raging river
Rushing off my face; Waterfall,
A grief-stricken cascade
The pain will never go away
Weak with ailing vertigo
Swaying back and forth
Only to be stationary; Rotting,
A slow and steady decay
The pain will never go away
Raging war, of the internal kind
Dolefulness claims it's crown
Contentment held captive
Like the Seventh Crusade
The pain will never go away
No light insight, Deep in the woods
Like the blackness
On a new moon night; Cold
One degree centigrade
The pain will never go away
Hollowed, repleted with agony
Gray, A bleakness
Never truly described; This
The obscureness of dolor's grenade
It will never go away