Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Die Young, Die Kicking

I have very little control over everything I do
When I popped a couple pills it made me think of you
And the seven signs spun around, you are the devil
I want to come back, through the gates, into the revel

After all of that wishing I saw you in the next room
I could smell your heart cooking through the drunken doom
The world tilted on its axis and I fell toward your arms
Just a glance at the kitchen knife prevented all harm

When we went up the stairs I was not sober but dumb
So stupid that the clarity just made me very numb
When the bedposts rattled and fell right off of the bed
I ran out of the room and I didn't stop when I heard you hit your head

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