Continue to your download.
Start Interactive Ad Now
Thanks for watching.
To Cure ParanoiaTo Cure ParanoiaABCB3-31-113 stanzasdoors creak open, seem concealingwindows blow dark curtains ininto a room where nothing sleepstension lives where peace had beenyou've been scarred, i see it plainlybut i'm not the one who wronged youso lift yourself up from these floorsthat splinter your insides black and bluedoors creak open, but it's just me, see?and i'm here to take you from your helli will not I WILL NOT hurt you, my lovei bear no monsters for you to duel
A MoodA MoodBlank/Free3-14-118 stanzasit's raining todaybut i can't feel the wateror breathe the wet asphalt.it's colder todaybut i have no fireplaceand definitely no patience.it's sunday today?it's monday today.and i don't care for effort.it's annoying beingand as my lips dryi contemplate, but do nothing.i am in a moodand i do not like it.i want to hurt and break things.i am angry todayand i'm not sure why.maybe because you piss me off.i am numb todayand i don't like that either.and i hate a lot of things i shouldn't.it's raining todaybut i can't feel much elsebesides how i want to slam doors.
The Internet is BoringThe Internet is BoringBlank/Free3-14-1113 stanzaskeys are warm on my fingertips.tap. tap. reach to my right. click.selfishness. such blind selfishness.there is heat everywhere andit seems my forehead is the sun.i don't feel well. i've slept too long.and i have the same two pagesopen and littered with informationthat will most certainly enrich me.my spine is tight against itselfas if cringing from an oncomingblow. i drift in a state of something.the sun in my head blazes hot.in its orbit are millions of brightand colorful planets: dusty clumps.all the vitamin c in that plastic jarcouldn't wake me or make meinto a ripe and ready orange.i want to get up. i want to do.DON'T TOUCH ME. I AM VAULNERABLE. sometimes i hate being.it's surprising... and the music's namedoesn't always reveal its sound,for sometimes ears can outsee eyes.i don't want to be in this room today.and i have the same two pagesopen that bear nothing of interest.no, i do not want to go
GreyweatherGreyweatherBlank/Free3-14-117 stanzassun, you're too yellow.dim. desaturate.sky, you're too vast.collapse. blanket me.greyweather, find me.cold wind, bind me.oh, how i've come to miss it:the chill of your calm.meant for more; settled.screamed for adventure:cowered under clearness.i am still just as scared.and all those times i wasall those times i had beenstanding under home's skies,i knew there was something there.someone stood there with meunder the same skies i had loathed:the skies i begged to dissipateinto blues and whites of tranquility.in greyweather, a voicecuts through heavinessand digs me up from sleep:you're the brightest of greys.oh, and i am never happy.oftentimes i find myself elsewherewhen i should be calm: content.the sun has been far too yellow.
Busride, Busride.Busride, Busride.Blank/Free3-1-119 stanzashop up the stepslook for you - himwish i were deadblueness - ignorancefeels good to regressblue sugar, blue firefall through the floorfor those eyes betrayedpass on now, pass onsit in that back seatit's where you belongalone and very coldfray your self-esteemwhile they're all laughingwhen their pity is falsesee the hair on his headabove the se(a)tbacksmove on now, move ondraw broken heartssplit down the middleit's the frosted window gamedead center - dead soulmyself turned her backtears on misery's shoulderhere - a century laterit doesn't seem so longbe gone now, be gone
DiscordantDiscordantBlank/Free3-1-115 stanzasrobins move through mulch pileseager for their wormsstealthless birds reveal themselvesred breasts become beacons - breathingand i feel a forgotten lyriclike stumbling, fevered wordsand a hand thumbing through mesearching for fossils - goldthe tears that swelled herein the dark valleys of my eyelidshave long since watered desertsbut their teeth still hurt - pinchingimpossibility can't be quenchedand my wolf's mouth devours themthe red and redding robin birdsfated to fly no more - groundedas i digest this mind i've eateni come to taste it is my owngrass blades speak lost languagesand familiar rains dapple me - softening