The need to quantitate has put center stage: regret, remorse, regard. Crazed and calm with a sinners
psalm, memories lose their art. So I circle thoughts with centered eyes that stare without ever seeing,
but it's getting dim and just before any reasons can be revealed, I fall.
...And I don't want to get up.
Just leave me down here, down where the truth wont go. No, I don't want to give up. Just dust me off,
and I swear you'd never know. Oh no! Look away. Shade your eyes. Don't. Stop.
...Then, there's the
simple fact that I was born this way in such a taut a**imilation of mistakes. Don't you misjudge what
I'm capable of if I'm heir to a broken will... I'll fall.
Leave the pain behind, casting fear to the side
for just a moment so things can align. And if I fall, sometimes that's just fine. As long as I get up, then
things are alright. Oh no! Don 't look a way. Don't shade your eyes. Don't stop.
psalm, memories lose their art. So I circle thoughts with centered eyes that stare without ever seeing,
but it's getting dim and just before any reasons can be revealed, I fall.
...And I don't want to get up.
Just leave me down here, down where the truth wont go. No, I don't want to give up. Just dust me off,
and I swear you'd never know. Oh no! Look away. Shade your eyes. Don't. Stop.
...Then, there's the
simple fact that I was born this way in such a taut a**imilation of mistakes. Don't you misjudge what
I'm capable of if I'm heir to a broken will... I'll fall.
Leave the pain behind, casting fear to the side
for just a moment so things can align. And if I fall, sometimes that's just fine. As long as I get up, then
things are alright. Oh no! Don 't look a way. Don't shade your eyes. Don't stop.