i'm afraid of the contents of my head
everything that used to be me is dead
it rots and makes my soul sick
it wakes the demon and lets him speak
little more and it lets him scream
laughing at me,killing my self-esteem
i don't care anymore,i will be his slave
i'll let him kill me,let him dance on my grave
i just wish for my soul a minute to fly
then he can burn it up there in the sky
maybe on fire it will shine more light
on someone's life who likes it long and bright...
july 8,2000
headache
© Copyright: Тень у Воды, 2002
Свидетельство о публикации №102062600254
Свидетельство о публикации №102062600254
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