She talked of prison pipe dreams
                                  of England accents found in adventures in far off land that would act as armor
    for the inside where the sadness takes root and smothers hope; the seed of which resides in us all

                                 She'll never go now - the years have passed by and bars built and hold her here
  I swelled with a mixture of guilt and joy, having lived her dream and withholding it from her now, still

   the weight of unclaimed dreams and moments never experienced tore at my heart so I numbed it through self-inflicted deprivation; refusal to add fuel to the chamber, going on days now


oh baby, make it hurt so good
sometimes lives don't live like they should
make it hurt so good