WHEN I SAY I WANT TO DIE,
I DO NOT MEAN PHYSICALLY,
BUT MORE SO,
MENTALLY
AND
EMOTIONALLY.
I WANT MY FEELINGS
TO DIE
SO
I MAY NO
LONGER CRY
I'M TIRED OF MY THOUGHTS
SUFFOCATING ME
AND MAKING IT
HARD FOR ME
TO BREATHE
DON'T YOU SEE?
THESE THINGS
ARE RUINING ME?
JUST DIE,
PLEASE,
SO
I
CAN
BE
FREE
AND
LEARN
TO
SURVIVE
.

poor art boy,
his mind was a gallery,
full of art,
until the factory
of society,
came along polluting it,
with reality,
and tearing it apart.
poor art boy,
poor
art
boy
.

I'm sorry dad, I'm sorry mum,
For these things that I do wrong.
For every smile that I can't give,
This little life that I can't live.
If you could look, through my two eyes,
Then I pray that you'd see why,
The sun will rise when I'm gone.

And when time will pass, and love will fade,
And these little things will all wash away,
I'll call home.

But this ain't goodbye, I'm still your son,
It's just these feet, they plead to run.
Through that sand, 'cross that sea,
Somewhere far away from me.
Where I can sleep amongst the stars,
Open oceans, and empty cars.
Dreams of swimming, on my own.

And when time will pass, and love will fade,
And these pretty things will all wash away,
I'll call home.

For then I'll be, sincerely me,
For like the tide my soul is free.
Salty skin, sun dried hair,
Lungs to breath that morning air.
That eucalyptus in the sky,
As laughing birds begin to cry.
And sunlight sings inside my bones.

And when time will pass, and love will fade,
And these pretty things will all wash away,
I'll call home.

on the
    road

            again,
        again.

   i've never
          really
felt
     like i was
wanted
   or appreciated
               anywhere.

        [play small violin]

...

        tho

             does
         anyone

ever?

       please,
               if you
        have room
in your attic,
                   stash me there,
    next to the
             old shoebox of
            polaroids

           that
  you
      never look at
     anymore.