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by We can't get away with murder, you know.
So why are you watching me die hit by blow?
You're killing me, and it's not suicide.
Everyone knows it's just another homocide.
It's not just one person, it's all of you.
No hurt for them, no reason to turn blue.
I'm dying because I'm being crushed
Beneath you're insults and waiting for the rush
Of the final high of rage and waiting to die.
But how can I wait to die, if I
Am fighting it with my dying wishes and regrets?
And this isn't something I'm about to forgive and forget.
Please understand that I'm not okay,
I may say I am, but I'm dead today.
Listening to the music for the death,
Wishing for the right to save the last breath.
I'm alive in those pictures as you can see,
But I'm dead in the present, dead as can be.
You're killing me, and you call me crazy,
But I'm not, and I can't seem to believe
Or live in the happy medium of twilight.
If who I am is the darkness of night,
And who you are, is the light to live by,
Then I prefer the space in between to live and cry
For, I'm sick of being told that I'm
Going to see the devil instead of the one above my
Head, watch my silver string being cut
By both of them, I wish it was being cut by only one.
The one above, but perhaps it's not even him.
Maybe it's my one love that is desperately trying to swim
To me from death, but I'm coming home anyways.
It's time to meet my maker before I die in a few days.
(Mind you, I am NOT dying physically. Mentally and emotionally, yes, but I've got counseling scheduled on Monday)
So why are you watching me die hit by blow?
You're killing me, and it's not suicide.
Everyone knows it's just another homocide.
It's not just one person, it's all of you.
No hurt for them, no reason to turn blue.
I'm dying because I'm being crushed
Beneath you're insults and waiting for the rush
Of the final high of rage and waiting to die.
But how can I wait to die, if I
Am fighting it with my dying wishes and regrets?
And this isn't something I'm about to forgive and forget.
Please understand that I'm not okay,
I may say I am, but I'm dead today.
Listening to the music for the death,
Wishing for the right to save the last breath.
I'm alive in those pictures as you can see,
But I'm dead in the present, dead as can be.
You're killing me, and you call me crazy,
But I'm not, and I can't seem to believe
Or live in the happy medium of twilight.
If who I am is the darkness of night,
And who you are, is the light to live by,
Then I prefer the space in between to live and cry
For, I'm sick of being told that I'm
Going to see the devil instead of the one above my
Head, watch my silver string being cut
By both of them, I wish it was being cut by only one.
The one above, but perhaps it's not even him.
Maybe it's my one love that is desperately trying to swim
To me from death, but I'm coming home anyways.
It's time to meet my maker before I die in a few days.
(Mind you, I am NOT dying physically. Mentally and emotionally, yes, but I've got counseling scheduled on Monday)
