10:18 pm / 03.02.04
and when people all despise me
all their kind words dont surprize me
i know i dont matter enough to make you feel
bastards like you think you're the only one who's real.
well i know whats real
i have words and thoughts to conseal
and we'll see who slits his wrists and who cries on his grave
we'll see who goes after moments
and who cries and stays
and I won't care as the moments pass me by
because when you've got joy, you can do more than cry.
do more than pout do more than die
I'll be the one who stays to cry
and I'll cry for the moment they'll forget who you were
when your face and voice and persona all begin to blur
and with worms crawling in and worms crawling out
I'll lay living on your stone and watch as flowers begin to sprout
and me six feet up and you six feet down
I will sing you a song of who survived in this small deluted town.