pointless nostalgia and crippled writing hands. every written letter, i've gotten nothing back. i am the last of my name. this is my path. i have to choose my way. if you're not remembered than you never existed. i've turned my back on a world that turned it's back on me. i gave so much love without asking for nothing back. and now we drone on and on like robots. we spit in the faces of our elders.

Aisle 27

all the things we'll never be. sick of this town and sick of me. swallow my pride. i'm not taking nothing back. my wishes fall on deaf ears. i count my blessings on a single hand. i can't help but feel betrayed. i don't say these things for attention and they're not a cry for fucking help. but i can't stop competing with myself. clouded by this discontent for everything. i hide behind my mask of negativity. dear all the people we've met, and hurt, we've fallen. and there is no one coming back so we still our cheated hearts. so we still our beating hearts. we've fallen.

Second Coming

i've made this bed and shackled it down with burdens. from this day forward i'll have to learn to control these urges. broken down from fatigue in tears. please get out of my head. darker days bring darker nights in my head. deafen me and take all i've worked for. i feel trapped in my own skin, ashamed i wait. degredation. so reaper, come and get me. so reaper, set me free. these crowds will tear at me. and i sigh a sweet tune of oppression. please warm my lifeless body with your gracious hands. with your holy hands. and the rain wash away every single mistake that i've made closing a warm grasp on my shallow heart. in my home town the sun is still a myth. their are the proud who've seen it, who know it exists.

Running Through Graveyards

http://vimeo.com/3621301
EDH, the Hope, Brighton - March 9th 2009.



Everyday Hell

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