trying to make a difference but where the fuck did you go wrong? lying to all the names and faces that have been there all......
If I could paint how I feel, I'd draw bullseye on your forehead my anger is not misdirected unless it somehow misses you time spent......
come warm your hands on hellfire and brimstone empty the pockets of the innocent victim bound by fear we misplace trust in your voice inside......
on clearer days I can see the lights from my bedroom door, on windy nights I can smell the lake as it drifts to me......
I'm not fucking blind to the way that you talk around the truth not just what you say but what you do played this tug......
can you hear the desperate cries that are calling out your name? twisting your arms, holding out their hands and tugging at your sleeve, do......
and all these things that we tie together keep unraveling apart and the light that used to burn so bright now is dark with anger-laced......
speak with hesitation talk with reservation blood on your hands dried long since but guilt still glowing in your eyes you hide behind (and now......