There is so much, I want to say, but where do I begin?
So instead I'll drag a knife across, my fragile, pale skin.

There no way to win, a war you're not waging,
so I'll channel this fire, that inside me is raging.
Yet I won't let it change me, my honour I'll uphold,
and let never be said, when my story is told,
that I did the wrong thing, to fulfill my desire,
even if saying I got it, would make me a liar.

I say goodnight to the moon and goodnight to each star,
and goodnight my angel though from me she's so far.
I hope she's slept soundly, each night since she fell,
my every night is so perfect, for in my dreams she does dwell.
But not in my waking, for she's found happiness elsewhere,
yet I really do hope she still know's that I care.
I hope tomorrow treats her, to all the good that can be,
and in her dreams she does smile, so happy, and free.

If *** was the answer to all of my pain
Your lips on my skin I'd never refrain
If *** was the answer to all of my pain
Your every touch would drive me insane
If *** was the answer to all of my pain
I'd get lost in your body again and again
If *** was the answer to all of my pain
The beast inside me you'd never restrain
If *** was the answer to all of my pain
The swirl of darkness would cease in my brain

Go on and take a second while I tell you a story
The story bout a boy who wants to get in the glory
trouble maker from day one, his mothers only son
he'd be out gone havin fun until the day was almost done
Started ballin in grade eight, wished he'd started ballin sooner
as far as girls went, he was the latest bloomer
Girls attentions what he wanted, can't resist them when they flaunted
he found a lucky dime, and now his cousins basement couch is haunted
Average grades class, this boy wasn't doctor
needed to make some dough so he got a job at foot locker
had two parents, but he hardly knew his father
his dad had always tried, and that made the boy try even harder
to make his parents proud, and so the story goes farther

It seems like no one really knows
how far their story goes
Lifes a stage, you do your shows
until the curtains close

Back to this punk ***, he slept his way through each class
days started to go fast, and soon graduation passed
He's as smart as a stool, and he acts like a fool,
watchin clone high in a pool of drool, ya this fools a tool
gets a a job selling speakers, the retailer's route
meets a caucasian brother thats so white that hes out
for two years thats his life, he works and he plays
months start to feel like weeks, the weeks turn into days
looks like his life is over, trains gone, he missed it
but this boy flies first class, he at the airport with his ticket
now hes in a town they call a city, all the girls are lookin pretty
failures not an options, its time to get gritty cause...

It seems like no one really knows
how far their story goes
Lifes a stage, you do your shows
until the curtains close

Gibbon minded giddy girl,
Tied a ribbon upon a curl,

Swirling divinity,
In dervish fashion,

Flipped just so,
To highlight passion.

Rouge flavored cheek,
A chance at a peek,

Of pink, and subtle
Flora.

And fauna freaks
Clamber and seek
Sustenance in skin and bone

To lay and beg
At each and every foot fall.

Sanguine lips,
And sultry hips,

Move to the rhythm
Of a butterfly’s dance.

And per chance
That I may find

The root of her wing
I shall fly once again

In winged care
Upon her currents
Of flowing hair.

Alas, it will not be so,
For I am otherwise engaged
With adulated stare

Of the brown haired woman
Dancing across the square.

She saw words
           in stars
  And life had meaning
        When she
   followed her heart
Opened up for disaster
         to strike
But the matches of protection
     Were nothing alike

            She saw poetry
      in his eyes
And nothing ever looked
           as sweet as his
     laugh lines
 But the flow of the pen
          stopped short of madness
When she was born again
    
        She saw lyrics
   in every emotion
           And all the tears and smiles
      proved her devotion
But life had a way
          of sneaking up on her
    When she closed her eyes
            Before looking
        in every mirror

    She saw love and pain
all at the same time
        and she was hurt and happy
  By every one of his rhymes
          But nothing ever looked
     as beautiful as his
               piercing eyes
 But the flow of the pen
          stopped short of laughter
When she was *born again