I'm not the boy who gives up a fuck when good words come to a trying lust;
I'm not the boy who tries to get all the guys with my tongue tied rhymes and my little hazel eyes.
I can try to see right through your crystalized memories, and idealistic cemetaries.
Are you trying to put me to an early grave, or am I just going insane?
I want to stop this catastrophe,
but I don't know if you'll let me.
I want to drown all the empathy,
and cast away all the misery.

Sometimes these eyes tell ugly lies,
and besides..it's not like you give a damn.
Secretly I cry trying to be dignified,
and you...never take hold of my hand.

I'm not the boy with the plastic lips, and the fake cherry kiss.
Maybe if I'm nice I'll give you my advice, and tell you "Sorry, you can't have this".
It's not me; it's all you, and the shit that you do; it's telling me: Run, don't ever come back.
I try to escape from these feelings; I see no more healing, and I...can't shade away from that.
Can you show me the way?
Guide me to my dying day;
whisk me away,
and watch my body decay.

Sometimes these eyes tell ugly lies,
and besides...it's not like you give a damn.
Secretly I cry trying to be dignified,
and you...never take hold of my hand.

What if I cry a river; my lake becomes bigger,
you don't even...try to swim across.
Now I'm gasping for air; I knew you wouldn't care,
now I'm...finally nailed to my perfect cross.

-END