Sunday, April 15, 2012

I'll spit my soul on a canvas.

Words are flooding my head
This thing I'm lying on,
This used to be a bed.
I wish the light's weren't on
I'd rather be out in the rain.

I'd love to be there,
Out in the rainy weather
Where my actions no longer matter
If I told them, would anyone care
That I flushed my feelings?

I took them out with my own fingers
The water's flowing, a rain drop lingers
On the cold and dirty window
I can barely see my writing
I'm just a shadow.

Should I write of love or fate,
Of guilt, or maybe about hate?
A car is slowly passing by
There's too much light, I want to cry
I'm running out of time.

Somewhere, far away, I clearly hear a plane
I'll quit fighting, I've lost this game
The rain has almost stopped – come back!
Give me back the heart I lack
I'll spit my soul on a canvas.

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