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| I am a boy who is lost in a world of social confusion. I dont beleive in the way everyone else does things, though i may understand why. I think about everything, though thats not allways good, oh well. I am not what you might call populare, and i like it that way... my friends are my friends because they took the time to know me. these are the people who are pretty on the inside, my friends. "popularity is a social disease" ~cjH |
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| I can try to get away.. but i strapped myself in. I can try to scratch away.. the sound in my ears. I can see it killing away.. all of my bad parts. I dont wanna listen.. but its all too clear. |
| covered in hope and vaseline Still cannot fix this broken machine Watching the hole, it used to be mine... Just watching it burn in my ssteady systematic decline OF THE TRUST (i will betray) .... give it to me, ill thow it away. After every thing i have done, i hate myself for what ive become. |
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| I dont know what i am, i dont know where ive been..... Human junk (just words and so much skin). I stick my hands thu the cage of this endless rutine; Just some flesh cought in this big broken machine. |
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| i am of little in my life... it is the things arround me... the things inside me... |
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