Youand all that I know, is I can still almost hear your laugh, when I first wake up
because all that I can dream of, is your voice telling me that it's all okay
I'll put my hand in yours, and I'll believe you.
You put your lips down on mine, and I can finally breathe.
Maybe you really are different
and maybe I'm full of shit
I say that every time
But I have hope.
Supposed To BeYou are supposed to be a commodity.
Something I can be sure of, at all times
when all else is confusing, and full of shit.
You are supposed to be freedom.
Something I don't have to fight for, it's a right not a prize
when I've fought too hard and too long.
You are supposed to be a taste of fresh water.
Something that refreshes my view on men, and my own helpless heart
when all else makes me want to crawl into a hole and collect cats.
So why is it, that when late night discussions
turn into sunrises on cold days
It's you I wish was there, above all else.
It's you that my heart urns to see.
Why on Earth, is it you?
It can't be how you make me laugh, lots of people can do that.
It can't be how you smile at me when you see me, you have a dorky smile.
It can't be how I feel when you touch me, it's shocking, really.
But it's your dorky smile that gets me through days
and it's your laugh, and your jokes that brighten up hard weeks
and I am lonely when I don't see y
InsomniaThe creaking noises of stairs
and the racket of the wind against my windowpane
all sounds that continually keep me from sleeping.
He loves me, they love me not,
Pick and choose, you're ruining these boys
all words that keep me awake.
Lovesick, heartburn, butterfly death
I'm feeling sick all of a sudden
and my slumber is lacking because of this fever.
I'm just so tired,
I've just lost sight of my heart
I don't quite know where it's gone.
GhostsHe speaks with words foreign to me
Talking of things I haven't believed
He's so unreal, there has to be a catch
I've long since known that it's me who's the wretch.
They talk of phantoms, among the hills
all I see are ghosts of those who've shot to kill
all but hitting my dear heart
and always leaving before the start
I know not where they've been
my feet have taken me places green
and it's cold outside, but I'm cold inside
so maybe it's just me.