Ago 17, 2007 | 11:55 pm
Epiphany
Metido en: Melancolía • Musica
So I speak to you in riddles,
’cause my words get in my way.
I smoke the whole thing to my head
and feel it wash away.
’cause I can’t take anymore of this…
I want to come apart
or dig myself a little hole
inside your precious heart.
‘Cause it’s always raining in my head.
Forget all the things I should have said.
I am nothing more than a little boy inside,
that cries out for attention,
yet I always try to hide.
‘Cause I talk to you like children,
though I don’t know how I feel.
But I know I’ll do the right thing,
if the right thing is revealed.
staind
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