Who do you think you are?
You, the one with the prettiest of faces but the ugliest of hearts.

Who do you think you are?
You, the one with the brightest of eyes but the dullest of mind.

Who do you think you are?
You, the one with the quickest of tongue but the slowest of wit.

Who do you think you are?
You, the one fastest to judge but not acknowledge your own flaws

Who do you think you are?
You, the one with the smallest of knives but the biggest of smiles.

Who do you think you are?
You, the one with the twist of your knife at the back even as you're hugging.

Who do you think you are?
Nobody. That's who.

Bleh.
All this I feel is pain.
All I want to do is ****.
This pain turns to anger.
Anger which then turns to hate.
All back to the beginning.
A continuous cycle.
Never stopping

I never thought being loved would hurt so bad.
Like a thousand knives stabbing my bleeding heart.
For every lie I speak.
As the fear of being alone slowly suffocates my dying heart.
I see the cold monster I've become.

Take it Back
She don't know how
The room loses light
Sound vanishes, no faint echos
Just silent and dark
Take it Back
Breaks the silence
She don't know how
Through the dark she feels a stare
Frigid and demanding
Take it Back
This is her last chance
She tries to say it
She don't know how
All warmth gone
Take it back**
This is all she regrets
The absence of this action
Leaves her to be on her own
She don't know how

I sleep a lot these days,
more than I used to.

Some people say I'm depressed,
but that's okay,
because she's here with me
in my dreams,
we walk and we talk,
and we smoke and we joke,
and sometimes we hold each other
and make love.

Those are the mornings
I wake up
with a piece of granite
and I realize
I'm still alive
and how much
I really miss her
and her sweet
sloppy
succulent
kisses.

So bring it Sandman,
you're burning daylight,
and I want to live
with her at least
one more time.