curbdrop out of grace

there are people who lie wide awake,
while you're dreaming like a fool,
and the insomnia is killing ya,
like the boys' indifference used to.
there is carnal pleasure in the way,
that you never accept their help,
they never helped you then so once again
you'll be patching up life yourself.
and i'm fucking sorry if i say,
anything that's out of line,
on my horse my corpse recommends the course,
as if i had been riding all this time.
next time you see me will you cry,
will i make you realize,
will i change a thing or do i lack meaning,
within the beauty of your eyes.

love is a kind of fakeness,
a feeling bruised and naked,
it's not so hard to disregard a chestful of shattered parts.
love is a kind of fakeness,
a feeling bruised and naked,
you came along then you were gone and you proved it all along.

there are people growing lonely now and i say,
that it's harder to be on your own,
know the hunger for something a little more,
becomes aparent when i return home.
there are people who keep praying while you laugh,
at the silliness of lies,
their naive faith is strong so they hold on,
as if there's a meaning to this life.
the disease is so aparent now and it's been spreading,
it'll double by next year,
and chances are you won't be a star,
at least not shine anywhere near here.
in the end of the story you will decide,
all decisions due in time,
you have one life so make the choice that's right,
and separately i will make mine.

love is a kind of fakeness,
a feeling bruised and naked,
it's not so hard to disregard a chestful of shattered parts.
love is a kind of fakeness,
a feeling bruised and naked,
you came along then you were gone and you proved it all along.

posted by fillshe @ 11:28 AM