|
Sunday, November 13, 2005 |
deadweight. |
i don't have the energy to vent about my particular issues... it's as if this big emotional soap opera is playing itself inside my head and i've just been trying to ignore it using alcohol, cough medicine...oh whatever the hell i can get my hands on.
i don't even know who to discuss it with. i've run through my phonebook list of friends to see who i could call but i don't think anyone could understand, especially since i don't want to have to explain the whole situation. with every gut-wrenching detail. i just don't know what to do anymore.
On a highway unpaved going my way you're so alone today like a ghost town I've found there's no relief, no salt in the sea is it true what they say you can't behave you gamble your soul away measuring your dreams of this life seems like the gristle of loneliness
don't let the sun catch ya crying don't let the sun catch ya crying
Like an nice age nice days on your way sipping the golden dregs on a rip tide freaks ride sleep inside a parasite's appetite oh say can't ya see the chemistry the parasites, the cleanup fee death leather hands recycled cans get well cards to the hostage vans
don't let the sun catch ya crying don't let the sun catch ya crying
You're a deadweight right straight on your way sunk in the midnight shade skies burn eyes turn learning to counterfeit their disease in this town where we roam we bluff our souls on canteen patios drink the greatest draft the music drags the music drags the music drags...
don't let the sun catch ya crying don't let the sun catch ya crying
deadweight by beck |
posted by maldita @ 3:55 AM
|
|
|
|
|
|
|