Well lookin back it seems i think little somethin
always beat's a whole lotta nothin.
The road at night is a mystery yerning to remain unsolved.
No direction sometimes seems better than the reallity of
a dead in street.
Burnt out from pills and *****
A head that pounds with a steady rythym of
of past failures and false starts.
As in bottles we seek answers to the unasked questions
of the dammed soul and promising lie.
Four walls a asylum or a hotel of your choosing.
Last times regret cant match tonights need.
Burnt emotions frozen feelings.
A great lie love is dellusion a drug for the
junkies soul.
Cold even on a mid summers night.
I paint in colors of a doomed nature.
Void yet alluring to the naked eye.
Like a records unclear sound the flaws are what
make it true.
This writers fire has all but faded.
I ask does that glass appear half empty to you?
May 11, 2010
May 11, 2010 at 6:26 PM UTC
Well lookin back it seems i think little somethin
always beat's a whole lotta nothin.
The road at night is a mystery yerning to remain unsolved.
No direction sometimes seems better than the reallity of
a dead in street.
Burnt out from pills and *****
A head that pounds with a steady rythym of
of past failures and false starts.
As in bottles we seek answers to the unasked questions
of the dammed soul and promising lie.
Four walls a asylum or a hotel of your choosing.
Last times regret cant match tonights need.
Burnt emotions frozen feelings.
A great lie love is dellusion a drug for the
junkies soul.
Cold even on a mid summers night.
I paint in colors of a doomed nature.
Void yet alluring to the naked eye.
Like a records unclear sound the flaws are what
make it true.
This writers fire has all but faded.
I ask does that glass appear half empty to you?
We all see it diffrent my friends.
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