Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
Here come a plague of badly drawn days
Why was I so hard to love whenever the visitors went away?
Why was there so much things you said to me, and why do
I always remember the hate and not the love? Things aren't
That bad, are they? Why is it that your strong head and healthy
Mind are what keep you leveled, yet I'm always sideways?
I've given up on remaining blissfully unaware of all the dishonesty
That is hurled at me like baseballs. Every hit counts as one point.
I've never known a perfect day because every time I wake it,
There is nothing but a pillar of gray billowing back and forth in
My face, telling me to make the right choice, and to not f--k up
Again. How come when I pull the curtains back, there is no
Happy sunshine slapping me in the face, yet a thunderstorm of
Misery? Who said everyday was a perfect one? They lied, badly.
Aside from that, she dresses lies as though they were salad, a
Little of this, a little of that, too much of this never hurt no one.
It makes me ill; I've followed her rule for far too long and now
When I attempt to make a clean getaway, there she is with the
Guilt. She holds it over me like a knife aimed for the heart. I
Cannot let her cut me too deep, I have to salvage some of my
Common sense, though to be quite honest, there's not much left.
Excuse me while I bask in my momentarily lapses of insanity,
I enjoy what little the good lord gave me. Shall I say that I won
The battle of wits against god since god sent me down here to
Experience all this sh!t so that god will know what it feels like?
Didn't I just inherit bragging rights for my meaningless role
As the basket case from earth? I'm stuck in someone's black
Blizzard, wondering when the storm will cease so I can go Home,
But heaven may have locked its gates to keep me from wandering
Back and forth and letting a breeze of darkness in. After all,
Isn't heaven supposed to be perfect, so everyday is day and night
Exists naught? I live in a plethora of anathemas, all of them
Attacking me day and night and no salvation army to back up
This troop. I never believed in fighting because there never
Seemed to be a true winner, just a bunch of saddened warriors
Picking up their bags and running off to a home, in a place
Where faces have been forgotten. The smell of blatant disregard
Has suffocated her, and her anger glows brighter than it used to.
If I run now, I can catch the train to Hades and just pretend it
All never happened. Although, how can one forget the scars of life?
February 2, 2006
Suge
Why was there so much things you said to me, and why do
I always remember the hate and not the love? Things aren't
That bad, are they? Why is it that your strong head and healthy
Mind are what keep you leveled, yet I'm always sideways?
I've given up on remaining blissfully unaware of all the dishonesty
That is hurled at me like baseballs. Every hit counts as one point.
I've never known a perfect day because every time I wake it,
There is nothing but a pillar of gray billowing back and forth in
My face, telling me to make the right choice, and to not f--k up
Again. How come when I pull the curtains back, there is no
Happy sunshine slapping me in the face, yet a thunderstorm of
Misery? Who said everyday was a perfect one? They lied, badly.
Aside from that, she dresses lies as though they were salad, a
Little of this, a little of that, too much of this never hurt no one.
It makes me ill; I've followed her rule for far too long and now
When I attempt to make a clean getaway, there she is with the
Guilt. She holds it over me like a knife aimed for the heart. I
Cannot let her cut me too deep, I have to salvage some of my
Common sense, though to be quite honest, there's not much left.
Excuse me while I bask in my momentarily lapses of insanity,
I enjoy what little the good lord gave me. Shall I say that I won
The battle of wits against god since god sent me down here to
Experience all this sh!t so that god will know what it feels like?
Didn't I just inherit bragging rights for my meaningless role
As the basket case from earth? I'm stuck in someone's black
Blizzard, wondering when the storm will cease so I can go Home,
But heaven may have locked its gates to keep me from wandering
Back and forth and letting a breeze of darkness in. After all,
Isn't heaven supposed to be perfect, so everyday is day and night
Exists naught? I live in a plethora of anathemas, all of them
Attacking me day and night and no salvation army to back up
This troop. I never believed in fighting because there never
Seemed to be a true winner, just a bunch of saddened warriors
Picking up their bags and running off to a home, in a place
Where faces have been forgotten. The smell of blatant disregard
Has suffocated her, and her anger glows brighter than it used to.
If I run now, I can catch the train to Hades and just pretend it
All never happened. Although, how can one forget the scars of life?
February 2, 2006
Suge
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Here come a plague of badly drawn days
Here come a plague of badly drawn days
