every time that i cry, i drift away,
watch the legs crumble and the shoulders shake,
the heart is sore and the throat is numb,
the blood is pounding like a worn out drum,
it's a baby again, it can't stand, it can't speak,
it's wailing but its voice is weak;
i claw back in and fix the tears,
like i've been doing all these years.

every time that i cry i drift away
and wonder how i could feel that way.
the feelings are distant, muted somehow,
i remember feeling them, but can't do so now,
and i watch with disdain as i fall apart
with cold in my soul and ice in my heart.

'we are not things' they cried,
the fertile soils that held his seeds
escaped his roots, each and every bride
was yearning for flowers and trees and green
but he'd given them no water;
so they cried until they could no more,
lambs made for ****** slaughter,
they cried an ocean shore to shore
and planted their own flowers,
cared for them like newborns,
they turned their petals into power
and with a cry of 'we are people' killed him with their thorns.

i
am a cookie cutter girl
with a moulded face and a painted mouth
and a head of perfect curls.
i
am a cookie cutter girl
with a heart that loves but does not beat
a stomach that yearns but does not eat
and a head of perfect curls.
i
am a cookie cutter girl
i am everything you want me to be,
with eyes that look but do not see,
a head that nods but does not agree,
i wish above all that i could be free,
but there's nothing in my head but perfect curls,
i am nothing to you but a perfect girl.

you give me the feeling
you get when you think there's one more step
but there isn't.
you give me the feeling
you get when you fall off a cliff in a dream which you think is real
but it isn't.
you give me the feeling
you get when you slip on a thick coat in the cold and you think the warmth will last longer than a second
but it doesn't.
you give me the feeling
you get when you wake up to white on the ground that you think's more than ice
but it isn't.
you give me the feeling
that there is more to your gentle glances than just curiosity,
and more to the electricity when we brush hands than just static,
and more to the soft, warm feeling of your lips against my cheek
like a star brushing the darkness of the sky on a cold winter's night,
with no one around and a velvet layer of black only broken by moonlight,
than just friendship,
but there isn't.
there isn't, there isn't, there isn't.

i want to be defined
by the letters in my name
and not the way you write them

Sometimes I wish I could live without
The immortal threat of time;
No ticking heart or beating clock,
Or hourly clanging chime;
No sleep to waste the night away,
No job to waste the day,
A commitment-free immortality
With no rules to obey.
I'd read all of the written books
And add more to the collection,
I'd sing and dance, enhance my skills
To the highest form of perfection;
Explore the world and all its secrets,
Unravel mysteries,
And to every lock I've ever found,
I'd hunt and find the key;
I'd watch every single movie,
1896 to now,
I'd make my own, even though I know
They'd never please a crowd;
I could make my clothes, build a ship,
Do all there is to do,
But even eternity could not beat
Just one second spent with you.