I've got so much to say but my words fail the capability of causing release
so I turn to smashing my fist against the wall leaving blood spots on your calendar
Exactly June the 24th so I always remember the day I tried to make the pain go away
The scratches on my legs from everytime I got bruised or bent are never deep enough to leave a permanent reminder
Maybe I need a voice sometimes to drown out my own
Sit there and moan about the bands we love and how generic they've grown
For years I've been a closed book
Stuck on a chapter with all my words thoroughly jumbled up
In fear of being seen as vulnerable and just a little fucked up
Shape me like glass so you can see right through
I've stopped giving my emotions the cold shoulder
Wasting my none to little time Circling my head with heated convosations and evaporation
I've come to realise I'm a gray cloud that needs a release
And a downpour would do us all a favour.