I gaze out the rose tinted windows of my ghost, but the sight that greets them just leaves them sore.Perception's a cracked windshield when the shot glass is half full. Under noxious concussion sleep, I have a nightmare of discrepancy between what is and what could be. So taken with possibility that I can't see the forest for reality.
This world is not my home, I'm just passing through. I'm still trapped on this desolate stone every time I click my ruby shoes. Expunge my existence like a minor offense committed by an adolescent deity pubescent petty piety. Cursed into birth,life sentence unearned, can't spring the clink of unrest,the house arrest of never feeling at peace. Peace of mind,a piece of mine: I WANNA DIE.
I just wanted to know... (if your heart's so far from home.) I just wanted to know... (what are you riding out alone.) If your heart's in your chest, or in the dirt
And what the fuck! The sunset is just polluted skies and Fall, which halts our breath, is just the color shit turns when it dies.