Happy Christmas, broken people, I hope the world feels better When the snow has fallen And the birds stop singing Because the world just gets So *quiet.
Shouldn't being the minority make you kinder? You've known misery, at the hands of the big fish; The small and unknown get crushed. But you find your ground and burn your way out With guns and bombs and *fear.
I spread my wings towards the sky; My arms lift as the wind rips through me. I am too high up, I am not high enough. A gasp of the pre-storm sky sends me spiralling upwards, But the higher I get, the more the skin peels away from my bones like paper.
I can't tell you that this life is fair, I cannot give you all the answers In this ridiculous and repulsive world, But I can help you find the answers That fit your universe, if you want.