Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
Breaking, or maybe already broken
So many questions,
All unanswered…
Some kind of crossroad,
Some kind of unnatural selection.
Some kind of mystery,
Some kind of nervous breakdown,
Hence the sweaty palms.
Some people know who to call;
My speed dial remains empty.
My insides feel empty, ailing.
My heart palpitates, or is
It just beating hard and fast?
Is there any reason for shaky hands?
And who would hold me anyway?
Every word triggers my fear.
Every idea sends me from the room,
In a hurricane of tears.
There is no self control,
(it is the self I can't control)
The flood gates are opened
(permanently)
My eyes hurt from seeing sadness.
(I am hurt from knowing you)
January 23, 2006
Suge
All unanswered…
Some kind of crossroad,
Some kind of unnatural selection.
Some kind of mystery,
Some kind of nervous breakdown,
Hence the sweaty palms.
Some people know who to call;
My speed dial remains empty.
My insides feel empty, ailing.
My heart palpitates, or is
It just beating hard and fast?
Is there any reason for shaky hands?
And who would hold me anyway?
Every word triggers my fear.
Every idea sends me from the room,
In a hurricane of tears.
There is no self control,
(it is the self I can't control)
The flood gates are opened
(permanently)
My eyes hurt from seeing sadness.
(I am hurt from knowing you)
January 23, 2006
Suge
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Breaking, or maybe already broken
Breaking, or maybe already broken