i can't breathe when you talk so softly on the telephone|
it makes me feel cold and alone with the awful same
repeating refrain that for fifteen years has been in my
i'm sorry, i forget that you're broken,
until you break down, again
and the sky was aflame
with pink clouds
reflected in the mud on the ground
and the blood covered up the screaming sound
is that being too obvious?
it's hard to be subtle when it's as thick as this
and i'm sick of all this bullshit
and everyone, except you
and maybe another few who aren't fake
and i know i wrote before i didn't
but i still do feel like a lake
that's calm and smooth
and has nothing to say
that's why i say it over and over again
sometime i want to just pick up the drano bottle
tell you "i love you"
then tell you "this is the end"
Moi, j'avais jamais rien dit. Rien