We are fucked, we are fucked, we are fucked

 

sorry missy i love you, but I love my self more.. this could be the beginning of a beautyfull friendship

 

i´m phoney my friends, shouldering the blame, done shouting names at the flickering screen, goin fuckin insaine, am i loosing my cool overstating my case, oh what can i say, you know i never claimed i was a stone.

if it could start being alive, i´d  stop living alone,  i think i belive that if dreams could dream

they´d dream of being laid side by side, piece by piece and turned into a castle for some towering queen they´re unable to know. And i think that i know the bitter dismai of a lover who brought fresh bouqeaits every day, when she turned him away, to remember some naive who once just gave one rose, one day, years ago.

Remember when our so called friend would not call out to you, i´ll tumbling loosely at a hope bunch throughout your home. Well loving is as loving does and i´d say we should know because we both have loved and lost and are alone. You´re face is falling tears to me they´re lovely and they´re dear though you don´t love me and ít´s clear that i will never see you in my arms, there´s no room in your heart, for evilness finally sharpened dark. All though I had started to think there might be hope,  it isn´t so.

so wake up, make up some new song again, around the same tune,  the summer ends and so called friend doesn´t need you, so proceed out the door and down the street, december is lying near but in the owen teed this hose is now a home, 60 days of trips and stays it took to tell me dear that you could not love me because you secretely still love a stone. All though i put my lips to your face, trying to push his kiss out of its place, all though my heart started to race now it has slowed, i let it go.

 

There´s plenty of time to make you mine tonite, there´s plenty of time to make you mine, there´s plenty of ways to know you´re not dying allright, hell there´s plenty of lights still left in your eyes, in your eyes.

Some nights i thirst for real blood, for real knives, for real cries then the flash of steel from real guns in real life really fills my mind. I really miss what really did exist, held your throat so tight.. Tonite the blood´s from real cuts, feels real nice, when it´s really mine, and if you want it to be real come over over for one night, watch that dark lake rise, if you really wanna see what really matters the most to me just take a real short drive.
It´s just a drive into a dark stretch, long stretch of night but it would stretch this shaking mind. This room left unheated with the dark black blinds, and i don´t wanna hear you say it shouldn´t really be this way cos i like this way just fine, cos there´s nothing quite like the blinding light, the curtains casted aside, no atempt is made to explain away, things really really are behind, you can´t hide.

 

The latest thoughts, gotta shut em off, gotta shut em off. Hiding from the sun.

 

 

2 hours and 39 minutes left of this nighshift, the last in a long line of boring and dehumanising shifts, which is a rather lovely thought.

The weekend is gonna be good, I can feel it, i´m alive, free as a bird.