1. |
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It follows close behind clinging near in my shadow,
just over my shoulder.
Death stalks me and wears a cloak of all my regrets
to relive over and over.
The blood on my hands torments me like the words I should have said
and when I should have said them.
Come next snowfall I hope that this all makes sense -
One day I'll have to apologize -
The sadness in my heart, and the hell I'm living in -
But when will that day come?
What should I live for?
I hope that this heartache strikes a chord.
I wish that I could say...
What could I live for?
I don't think I can do this anymore.
...I'm so sorry
everyday, everyday, everyday.
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2. |
Jean Grey Down
07:03
|
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Eventually every colour fades.
Lacking a catalyst; a gradual change for the worse.
Since the loss of myself, and having lost all else,
now I know for sure that we aren't what we once were
anymore.
The turpentine's fast acting and it's taking with it
what I thought I would always have to define myself -
hard to remember my old self.
The turpentine's fast acting and it's taking with it
what I thought would always have to define myself -
oh God, I'm someone else.
You're turpentine; efficient and effective.
Stripping me down, stripping me bare.
You're turpentine.
I cannot feel this mask that conceals my suffering.
In silence while these moments are on repeat.
I remember a time your smile shining
and leaving impressions on my skin.
You're an imbalance of chemicals -
a mess of electrical impulse -
and I'm calculated.
It shouldn't come as a surprise to you or me
that this is the way things had to be.
I long for my reflection in your eyes -
the image of someone with purpose
and still chemically balanced.
I'm looking in the mirror and I don't like what I see.
and that's because of you.
But now everyday is the same.
Crushing my heart in my hands just to feel anything.
Just to feel anything at all.
How am I supposed to stay strong when I've never been?
And I'm wondering what comes...
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3. |
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...next.
I can clearly recall.
Recklessly, I salted the earth around my heart.
I spread myself so thin over so many years.
Finding purpose. A heart warm enough.
Living in recluse has embraced me with such comfort.
Wasted years. Pointless tears. Maybe I'm better off?
I thought I was better off.
I did not expect a single thing to grow
in a soil such as this.
But there you are
taking root
and I'm glad
that I was wrong.
I sink in shallow, hollow home, drowning in myself.
I never would have thought I'd find love in someone else.
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You Take The Bus When You're Dead Calgary, Alberta
No longer a band sorry. Check out some of us in "Still There"
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