If love is a battlefield,
Doesn't that make life war?
And what's war without casualties?

If you blame me for being
a monster,
You must first know what made me this way.
I wasn't born into it.

You never needed me
Though you always used me.
I'm part to blame because,
I let you
You didn't even hesitate
when you left.
It was one sided love,
only more complicated.
To you,
I was expendable and replaceable.
Next to nessasary

It's depressing really.
How you grown accustom
to despair .
The way you've memorized the trails your tears leave behind.
How you've grown to enjoy the salty taste in your tears.

Caught in your crossfire,
A blow meant for you,
That I have taken,
You won't notice though,
You only have eyes for your foe,
I am caught.
Now that I'm in,
Theres no way out.
Caught in your crossfire
What's war without casualties?

Don't be sad, depressed or lonely.
"Follow me!" they say,
Belivieve us we will show
you the way!
The cures just an arms reach away!

Sad?
Well joys just a little sniff away, you can even puff if you'd like!
"Look at you, all grown up!"
Depressions easy!
Meet the lips of a bottle to your own, till you forget you're down!
"I think you're getting it!"
And if you're lonely,
Just find another body to lay with.
"See! You can take care of yourself just fine!"

Oh honey they never tell you,
The sniff becomes necessary,
The drinking nightly,
It's only lust,
Never love.
but it's just a little to late,
You drank their Kool-Aid.

I'll give you pleasure,
Then show you pain.
You'll never smile so wide,
Or cry so hard.
It's suffocating in silk.
It's drowning in daffodils.
It's a strange addiction

I couldn't explain how you made me feel
Never before so anyone care,
Never before has someone looked
at me like that,
Never before have I felt it.
It was Love.
But I noticed a little too late.

I am just trying to forget;
Your lips on mine,
Your hands on my waist,
Your name on my tounge.
You're on my mind
And I can't help but think;
Your lips are hers now,
Your hands are on her waist now,
And it's her whispering sweet
nothing's to you at midnight.
It's her, not me.