I remember all the voices trapped inside my head: Counting blessings, so in the end we'll wind up...
I swear, I promise your not the one blame.
Another broken crutch, headboard, please help me sleep in between all the winding tracks leading down the same road, I can't contain; To bad this heart is hibernating. Overly complicated, this life we lead, Through windows to the soul, Not what I wanted to be. As I try to erase all the words in my head I cannot contain; Through the long road I've paved the way with my heartfelt inequities. Constantly searching for a way "home". Walking into the room you feel the cold hard gaze, once again, strapped for cash, it hasn't all sunk in. On the side, in dark room, once again, you let it happen, but this wasn't meant for you. As the shutters close tight, like a horsehair noose, slowly like the last time; you reach for the handle.
Not what I wanted to be, this is is the life that we lead.
In this, you cannot erase anything that I've said.
Through the doorway, up the staircase, down the cold, long, hallway that you call upon.
All the things that you ever said.
It's so been long since I've been able to fall asleep.
Track Name: Crows
A late night crow
Finding a way into my ear
Telling stories of all the things that I don't want to hear
All the lies, broken up, down the way
Reminding my teeth of the feeling of flesh inbetween
And I can't contain
To my eyes
Chisled in the morning dew
Both coming clean
Wasted and coming through
The words hurt my teeth
Like sillouettes of spoken words
Off an old ripped up parchment
And I cannot breathe
And as the years roll by
Scripts written in sand
Standing out until the tide comes in
The past unfolds
Stories to be told
This house a home
Built upon broken glass and mold
I remember all the nooks and crannies
That led me to that place
It's always one thing right after the other
With the ghost that move within the walls
This house, a home
And now I know everything
Track Name: After Five
We all have that one thing that tears us apart from the inside, either physical, spiritual, or mental; the feeling inside that festers until one thing leads to another, we reach the end of our rope and we panic. We search for some sort of answer, a solution, a cure for this feeling. Everyone goes about this in different ways, some search for purpose. Some take whatever talent they have and share it with the world as to pass on some sort of legacy.
That's all that anyone really wants, right? When the curtain closes someone to remember their name? Whether that be in flashing lights, in a melody or tune, in a painting, a picture, a memory. Maybe not intentionally but when you really break it down that's why anyone does anything. For the sheer fact of knowing they did something. Drive, purpose, does it really mean all that much?
Riddle me this, how many names of people do you know that truly changed the world. How much of that was because you learned it in some way or some form from someone else.
Now, truly think about this. Every thought you've ever had, even this one I'm saying right now, is unoriginal. It's been pondered before, its worked its way onto a pen or tounge and shared before you were even thought of.
So, If nothing we ever do or say never truly matters then what are we doing with ourselves? Where is the definitive line between life and death besides the six feet in dirt that we've posed as tradition to try and hold on to the memories of those lost.
What I'm trying to say is, babysteps. Live for the small accomplishments. You probably won't change the world, but that's okay, you don't have to. But, if everyone strives for greatness, we can spread this like wildfire.
As one, we make no difference. As a whole, we are the future.
We're all the same..
As a whole
There's a hole..
And I'm still trying to come up with some sort of resolution, and i just cant seem to make it all come together