1. |
Ruined Maid
00:48
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One can seem lively while they are ruined.
But the ruse is up; you're not what you portray in any way.
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2. |
Is It Fall or Spring?
02:06
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I'm so uninspired.
I used to say that I loved her, and now that it's over, I can't find the part where I'm happier.
Got S.O.S drawn in the sand.
Salt water blisters scar my hand; "COME SAVE ME" dug through my forehead, as the blood swallows me.
Is it fall or spring?
I'm confused by the color of leaf.
It's only 6:30, fuck.
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3. |
Tracing Crop Circles
02:30
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I regret I don't have a good view of you.
I wish we could converse on what's new.
But minutes you and I share are spare and few.
Moments we do share aren't like we used to.
Around your waist, crop circles I trace.
I can vaguely make out outlines of your face.
"Slow down," you whisper. "It's not a race."
"Let's not let tonight go to waste."
What am I supposed to do?
When I'm not right there next to you?
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4. |
Answers Me
01:52
|
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|
Answers me, answers me.
Answers me, answers me.
Answers me, answers me.
Answers me, answers me.
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5. |
Alone on the Holidays
03:06
|
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|
Alone.
I won't pick up my phone, or the pieces that lay around me.
At home.
The kiss I meet on New Years Eve is a bottle, my only company.
What a waste.
I spend my day wandering through the haze.
In a daze.
To find someone who can amaze me.
Broken homes.
I'm alone on the holidays.
I'm alone on the holidays.
Christmas isn't very merry.
Halloween isn't very scary.
My birthday is a chore, nothing more.
Can you hear me?
I'm crying out for help.
Can you hear me?
You, I'm talking to you.
Are you listening?
Are you listening?
Are you even listening to me?
Are you even listening to
me?
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6. |
||||
|
Inside. I look inside.
Can't trust my eyes, can't trust my eyes.
Bound. In an empty room.
Can I see me too? Can I see me too?
"Please," I beg with my eyes.
"My legs, they're tied." "My legs, they're tied."
I'll fight for my right.
To go outside, to go outside.
Inside. I step inside.
She and I talk fine. She and I talk fine.
Her eyes. She talks with her eyes.
She won't think I'll find. She won't think I'll find.
Fragments of me. Stashed away.
For her own need, for her own need.
I cave in her face.
To teach her to cry, to teach her to cry.
The dreams are hurting more than ever before.
The dreams are hurting more than ever before.
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7. |
To Reach for You
02:29
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Where did ya go?
Your face would light the dark.
That grows beneath my eyes.
But now you seem to feed them.
To feed them.
feed them.
Where did ya go?
You lean your head upon the glass.
I try, my hand should reach for you.
In yours, but you're receding.
Receding.
Receding.
Receding.
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