Brand it,
Bandit.
Livin' the dream,
curse.

Sulking
in the silence
of your sorrows.

Neck deep
in worry waves.
&
I'm drowning, in the
shallow waters of my own.

As I rise from the
grave, you
left me in.

Revenge is the
beat of my heartless
pulse.

Acting without compassion.
In a sick sense.
I think, I'm stronger than before.

Playing the role, perfectly.
I will be the medium
for all the hearts you broke.

& I'll plead insanity when the performance is over.

***-runnin'
to the cemetery.
Goin' grave-diggin',
Tonight.

It's three to three,
and I'll be back
home.

At the half-way
house, in time for
breakfast.

Till then,
I'm chasin'
the ghost.
I used to call my reflection.

Myths and rapid cycling
mood rings.
These are fabled love stories
from the
Book Of Lust.

Memories seen
from rotten eyes.
And all the maggots,
worms, and spiders.

That live inside them.

Truth is always near.
We just gotta dig for it.

For the truth is always
buried beneath lies.

Rums got me runnin'
back into those arms.

Behind them
head light eyes,
lies
a different story.

This fifths got me
walkin' the plank.
"Captains" orders.

My heart beats
electric.
Till you pull the
plug.

Shut me down.
Let me die.
So I can start a new one.

Beep, beep, beep.
I'm going home.

Using God,
as an excuse to
stab your Brother.

Praising men,
who preach pity
and create hate.

Using God,
as an excuse to shun
personal phobias.

Confession, can't save you know.
Like you said, he decides where we go.
Right?

I'll see you down here.
:)