Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
Tying myself up in an ailment I've now decided I'd rather not be associated with
I've dreamed, perhaps a dream too far.
And lies, I've spread them around like disease.
Then there are my knowing glances that say
I know everything when I knew absolutely nothing.
I've told the truths of others to those who would listen,
When I was suppose to hold them as secrets.
And they were to be held like babies, these secrets
That erupted from my tongue, like an avalanche falling far.
Those lies were refreshing to expand. I listen
As they beat in the minds of foes. Diseased
And ready to combat my immorality, I eat a bowl of nothing
For breakfast and dive into a world that has no say.
Was it a far cry from help, for I to say
I lack the gene (or the heritage) to hold a secret
For longer than a second? I can't not say nothing
As you destroy yourself slowly. I'm far
Too diligent to watch you walk away in ruins, looking diseased
And sickly from God knows what. See my eyes, I listen.
Watch as I throw this glance to that guy over there. I listen,
He forces a blush back into his mind. I know, my eyes say,
But my mind says I'm f---ing around. This is the disease
Of being a loner, letting it catch others in their mistakes, and secrets.
I'm no liar, hell I'm barely a dreamer here, but far
Into my mind lies my sickness. It is equivalent to nothing.
To dream, perchance to hope or to fall into the nothing
That we all perceive to be life. I've dreamt, but listened
Not for the fantasy in it all, but rather the message that got too far
Gone and lost in my plethora of lies and stares. I didn't say
I lacked a dream or goal, or even a few nasty secrets.
I just know how to get from you what I want. This is the way I'm diseased.
And so very much like most rancid diseases,
It eats away at me till I have to admit I was ever sick. Nothing
Breaks me. I lie. My biggest secret
Is that everything breaks me. I talk to anything that will listen,
And lie to anything that will hear. I dream and say
Things I don't mean. But I dream a dream too far.
It is my own death that diseases me, puts me into a world that cannot listen.
Not the actual dying, nothing like that. Just leaving behind those who say
I've wronged when I didn't. My secret? I'll tell you. It's that I've already gone too far.
January 6, 2006
Suge
And lies, I've spread them around like disease.
Then there are my knowing glances that say
I know everything when I knew absolutely nothing.
I've told the truths of others to those who would listen,
When I was suppose to hold them as secrets.
And they were to be held like babies, these secrets
That erupted from my tongue, like an avalanche falling far.
Those lies were refreshing to expand. I listen
As they beat in the minds of foes. Diseased
And ready to combat my immorality, I eat a bowl of nothing
For breakfast and dive into a world that has no say.
Was it a far cry from help, for I to say
I lack the gene (or the heritage) to hold a secret
For longer than a second? I can't not say nothing
As you destroy yourself slowly. I'm far
Too diligent to watch you walk away in ruins, looking diseased
And sickly from God knows what. See my eyes, I listen.
Watch as I throw this glance to that guy over there. I listen,
He forces a blush back into his mind. I know, my eyes say,
But my mind says I'm f---ing around. This is the disease
Of being a loner, letting it catch others in their mistakes, and secrets.
I'm no liar, hell I'm barely a dreamer here, but far
Into my mind lies my sickness. It is equivalent to nothing.
To dream, perchance to hope or to fall into the nothing
That we all perceive to be life. I've dreamt, but listened
Not for the fantasy in it all, but rather the message that got too far
Gone and lost in my plethora of lies and stares. I didn't say
I lacked a dream or goal, or even a few nasty secrets.
I just know how to get from you what I want. This is the way I'm diseased.
And so very much like most rancid diseases,
It eats away at me till I have to admit I was ever sick. Nothing
Breaks me. I lie. My biggest secret
Is that everything breaks me. I talk to anything that will listen,
And lie to anything that will hear. I dream and say
Things I don't mean. But I dream a dream too far.
It is my own death that diseases me, puts me into a world that cannot listen.
Not the actual dying, nothing like that. Just leaving behind those who say
I've wronged when I didn't. My secret? I'll tell you. It's that I've already gone too far.
January 6, 2006
Suge
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Tying myself up in an ailment I`ve now decided I`d rather not be associated with
Tying myself up in an ailment I`ve now decided I`d rather not be associated with
