We like to dwell in our sorrows,
thinking there will be no better tomorrows.
This late-night passive aggression,
that seems like every poet’s obsession.

Oh why can’t we choose to be happy?
When the colors are grey, to see beauty?
Why must we feed each others' depression?
That the world is ugly, full of suppression?

I now choose to look a little deeper,
seeing “pretty” does not make me weaker.
I choose to look for a different perspective;
I know it will be hard; misery is infective.

But I know that I have a choice:
To feel sorrow or to rejoice.
I’ve lost chapters to grief and sadness,
to realize and continue? Now that would be madness.

Sabella, come out and play!
Sabella, where are you today?
Sabella, with her whips and toys,
Sabella, who beats all the boys.

Sabella, with her costumes and wigs,
Sabella, legs long like twigs.
Sabella, with her pretty knives and chains,
Sabella, broken beauty and brains.

Sabella, with her leather corset,
Sabella, whom you’ll never surfeit.
Sabella, with her thigh-high boots,
Sabella, who knows no roots.

Sabella, with her full-lip smile,
Sabella, won’t you stay for a while?
Sabella, with no inner inhibition,
Sabella, she’s on full exhibition.

Slow sips of cyanide, to complete my sweet suicide.
Adamant about absolution,
My mind has masterminded a revolution.
Addicted to anarchy and aggression,
Nobodies kept voted for nomination.
Tasty tar-treats, flavored of TNT,
Humor my hallucinations of this God-forsaken nation.
Abandoned, alone and arrested,
I* give up on this Vindication

Did you feel that? There was a tremor through my skin,
A tingling sensation, coming from within.
The vibration of music, rippling with the bass;
I always thought the game, was all about the chase.

But now that I’m here, I feel the music chilling down my spine;
And all that I can think of, is how to make you mine.
But my eyes just can’t seem to focus, with this eruption of feeling,
They say that music is feeling, but it’s through the magic of hearing.
They might be right, but these needs have moved to physical healing.
See I’ve suddenly got tunnel vision, and it’s toward you that I’m steering.

My hands are getting clammy, but my vision is getting clear.
All I know right now is that I need you; I need you closer than near.
Closer than close, close to touch,
I need it right now, and I need it so much.

Did you feel that? It’s a tremor through my skin,
This tingling sensation, coming from within.
The vibration of music, now tickling my bass,
Sometimes the game we’re playing, doesn’t require the chase.

Just a touch, just a kiss, just a small simple stroke,
You’ve got my body convulsing, craving to be choked.
Breath’s getting shallow & emotions dripping thick,
These pills that I’ve taken, have given quite the kick.
See my frequency is rising, and I think yours is rising too,
So I’m watching your body, and I’m waiting for your cue.

Did you feel that? There was a tremor through my skin,
A tingling sensation, coming from within.
The vibrations of music, weaving in and out of the bass,
I now see the game that we’re playing, was never about the chase.

Each passing day brings me closer to the date,
Where we'll plaster happy smiles and pretend to celebrate.
Have I done something great? Is that why we're here?
Or are we really celebrating the passing of another year?
One year, 52 weeks or 365 days,
It's just an excuse, a corporate cliché.

But don't worry, there's no need to celebrate,
Each day brings me closer to my own ****** fate.
HEY, it's my birthday!
& when it passes, it'll just be another day...

Trailing behind are my lost teen years,
No Mama, I still haven't conquered my fears.
Don't worry, there's still some life behind these eyes,
I never did understand the celebration of the fact time flies.
With masked faces surrounding my 20 candles of lies,
It's hard to tell what goes on in this light
With the flickers of the candles, tricking my sight.
Am I blowing out the candles?
Or am I blowing out my mind?

Don't bother now, there's no time to celebrate,
Love can't save me from my own ****** fate.
HEY, it's my birthday!
& when it passes, it'll just be another wasted day...

It's a crumpled piece of paper,
laid littered on the floor.
It's a crumpled piece of paper,
that people chose to ignore.

It's a crumpled piece of paper,
that showed she did once care.
It's a crumpled piece of paper,
explaining she was broken beyond repair.

It's a crumpled piece of paper,
laid littered on the floor.
It's a crumpled piece of paper,
that people chose to ignore.

And it's my crumpled piece of paper,
that was lost and never found.
This crumpled piece of paper,
that's now six feet below the ground.

My name is Sam,
don't know who I am.
The world keeps spinning round&round;&round;&round; &,

People telling me what's my plan.
Their lips keep moving up&down;&up;&down; &,
I can't seem to hear a sound,
My world is spinning round&round;&up;&down; &,

Why can't I seem to find a way?
Without there being a fine price to pay &,
Why can't you just hear me out?
Without there being tears&shouts;&fears;&doubt;; &,

What's wrong with me today?
My emotions stalled, it just won't say, I cannot say &,
I can't stop these pools of tears,
falling down my face, skin's going clear &,

My world's now crashing I cannot see,
Just exactly what it is You want me to Be.