(327.) Where
=---------------------------------------------------=
I reached out into the dark to hold your hand.
But nothing was there and my stomach dropped.
I felt sick and alone.
Went to put my arm around my love.
But nothing was there.
I felt so disowned.
Where have you gone?
Why aren't you here?
Sitting with me and holding my hand.
Easing my troubles and settling my mind.
Where are you?
(328.) Virus In A Cancer Patient
=---------------------------------------------------=
Infection originates from the brain.
It is passed down through the nerves.
Synapse after synapse going off.
The muscles move and words begin to form.
As if a virus in a cancer patient it spreads like mad.
From mouth to air, to air to ear.
Each is interpreted in a different form.
Translated, rotated, and made to fit the mind.
As each different one hears what it wants.
The infection spreads farther.
Each vessel gets stronger until they all assimilate.
Into a mass that not even you can stop.
Hear our words and fear our might.
You will join us, by this I swear.
Like a virus in your brain.
On our side, you shall be.
Do not believe this warning I issue?
Just wait to hear it with your own ears.
You'll be infected soon enough.
(329.) Beauty
=---------------------------------------------------=
Beauty.
It is the baby born on the Monday.
Of any given day.
On the freeway.
Beauty.
It is the chubby girl crying in the dark.
Because the models hark.
And eat her flesh like a shark.
Beauty.
It is the tear that rolled down your cheek.
Because you saw heaven and felt too weak.
And even if you live forever, you'll still feel meek.
Beauty.
It is the sun as it hits the sky.
While the birds fly so gracefully by.
And you have to look away or shade your eye.
Beauty.
It is the day after tomorrow.
When you're weeping in sorrow.
Because you asked to hold her hand and her life she let you borrow.
Beauty.
Is a lover's first kiss.
The kind that you shall always reminisce.
And when someone badmouths it you hiss.
Beauty.
It is a poor man's paycheck.
That keeps him so tightly in check.
So that his family may eat and live in something better than a wreck.
Beauty.
It is the porcelain doll in your room.
The soft skinned thing you wish you had in your womb.
But will never have, and carry to your tomb.
Beauty.
It is a raindrop on a leaf.
That falls on your forehead and makes you breathe a sigh of relief.
Even if it is taken away by an Umbrella bearing thief.
Beauty.
It is that thing they try to achieve.
So that there are presents under the tree on Christmas Eve.
That the next morning there is a Christmas for young Steve.
Beauty.
It is the flowers planted on your bed.
As you're underlying 6 feet with the dead.
Because you could take no more and took your head.
Beauty.
It is the first time your baby say's dad.
It reminds you of the greatest moments you've ever had.
Then you realize, life was not all that bad.
Beauty.
It is the picture that the director made.
Experimenting in it's pitch and fade.
The story of the life remade.
Beauty.
It is that feeling you get when you're all alone.
When the slightest noise chills you to the bone.
And you don't reach out to answer the phone.
Beauty.
It is the smile on the girl who never smiles.
Because the power of that grin can drive a man for miles.
In the power of her face, the ability to break down her sad trials.
Beauty.
It is the house that you lived in.
With your sweet kin.
As it is being torn down from within.
Beauty.
It is the first time it runs across the floor.
To meet you when you enter the door.
They scream out "Daddy!" and you long for more.
Beauty
Is the first time that lovers kiss.
As their eyes glaze over in sweet bliss.
It was a trick shot, but not a miss.
Beauty.
It is the passing of age.
As if the turning of a page.
We all turn quickly from babe to sage.
Beauty.
It is every time I see you.
Whether the light reflects off your skin and the light blinds me through.
To the fabled moment when you say you do.
Beauty.
Is more than a word can ever mean.
More than a God has ever been.
Greater than any of us, have ever seen.
(330.) Quicken
=---------------------------------------------------=
Could you end a life in vain?
Or would this action cause you pain?
If I were to plead to you,
for this life to soon be through.
Would you cry and point the gun?
Or break down and run.
In the final moments of my breath.
Could you please, quicken my death?
(331.) Unborn Baby
=---------------------------------------------------=
People cry and parents mourn.
For the short-lived child who lay unborn.
Life enters quickly through the door.
But soon as leave forever more.
If thy life had not been cut so quick,
Would you be a saint or a prick?
Go to school and grow old.
Would stories of prestige be told?
How long would you live to be?
Would you always be free?
Questions asked of you my friend.
Because you were born and met your end.
(332.) Is Heaven?
=---------------------------------------------------=
Is heaven of our own creation?
Spun forth from hell and self-mutilation.
Or is it more us hopeless.
For this I pray and confess.
(333.) Fair Maiden Over There
=---------------------------------------------------=
Virtuous and fair.
The maiden over there.
She blows a kiss and I do too.
Our encounter is now through.
(334.) Supervising Over Earth
=---------------------------------------------------=
Maybe there is someone over the Earth.
Supervising, death and birth.
Like a grandiose Grim Reaper.
Our record keeper.
Was it recorded when I was born?
Or is that page torn?
(335.) Why Pray When You Can Dream?
=---------------------------------------------------=
Why pray when you can dream?
Does this action give you pleasure.
Dreaming does better for me it seem.
Because then my hopes have no measure.
(336.) God On A Knee
=---------------------------------------------------=
God loves you they say.
So they all bow on their knees and pray.
But God has never been on knee for you.
Why shouldn't you do the same too?
(337.) Love For You To Open Your Door
=---------------------------------------------------=
I'd love for you to open your door.
Talk to me and see my reaction.
We'll talk forever and never bore.
Care to open your mouth in action?
(338.) What Would God Say
=---------------------------------------------------=
What would God say?
If he saw what I did today.
Condemn or shun?
Are my days done?
Or will he praise me.
You think he'll see?
The greatness behind my humor.
Maybe he can see why I can laugh at a tumor.
I'd hate to go to hell for a little gag.
At how his cheeks begin to sag.
And how the preacher touched the little boys.
Played with their favorite toys.
Am I to go to hell?
For the funny joke I tell.
(339.) Left Over From Winter
=---------------------------------------------------=
Breezes left over from winter, blow through her hair.
As if an eraser, wiping clean of worry and care.
While the flowers dance madly in the wind.
The sunbeams flow over, and gracefully bend.
To accent the angel, running through the grass.
Troubles like the scenery are quickly flying pass.
Running toward a nowhere.
Chasing a somewhere.
If I am to end up even a few feet from my prize.
If only to still be within the range of her eyes.
I would have made a journey, twice over it would seem.
Of running through a happy, perfect endless dream.
Heaven may be perfect, but it has nothing on her.
To the world around me, a thought may never occur.
Following in the footsteps of the maiden on the run.
A flood of feelings, we label as fun.
With half-opened eyes, a gaze I ask to borrow.
Can I follow with you, and run until tomorrow?
(340.) Love Is A Fool
=---------------------------------------------------=
I saw you at Christmas, sitting by the tree.
I remember you at thee dance, waiting there for me.
Sad and ignored, feeling nothing but hate.
Of this I sure that you are irate.
Maybe if you asked, to join in on the fun.
Instead of being constantly, forever on the run.
I can still picture the first time you say hello.
The slightest notion of you irked me below.
But I still stood by you and said you were a friend.
Until you hurt me, and I put us to an end.
So I see you waiting, right outside the door.
As if you were in the ceilings, wall, and very floor.
Maybe you should say your sorry and admit that I am right.
Be the bigger one, and end this silly fight.
But alas you are too stubborn, ignorant and blind.
As you're the reason, we're in this pointless bind.
So love, you were wrong.
You can stop singing your sad song.
In a fight with my emotions, can this be right?
Why is it that I'm losing, countless sleep at night.
Emotions can be unruly, blind, and cruel.
But be the first to apologize and the beat the old fool.
(341.) Glazed Over Life
=---------------------------------------------------=
Stop and look around.
This is life.
It only happens once I've heard.
I think I'm just here for the view though.
Think of it as a summer home.
I really think I've done well.
It may have it's ups and downs.
A few sad times and worse days.
But, overall it's nice.
Even if I'm alone.
I'd still be able to glare.
Just sorta sit back in amazement.
Glazed over from everything.
It's very beautiful.
Like it was made for me.
Maybe it was.
Oh well.
We live, we grow old, and we die.
The pessimist finds another reason to complain.
Well, I say why care at all.
Now excuse me while I lean back and live.
Even if in the end it will all be in vain.
I enjoyed it while it lasted.
(342.) Sky Of Gray.
=---------------------------------------------------=
Silhouettes of strangers cross my eyes.
Their outlines are graced by gray-blue skies.
A bit of ecstasy by my side.
Holding hands our love we don't hide.
Got a pocket full of a star.
It's not much, but it'll get me far.
Bought my ticket to the afterlife.
So I'll have it ready when I'm in a strife.
Heading on the highway onto tomorrow.
Wearing sunglasses that I had to borrow.
If it were not for the angel with the porcelain skin.
This bit of Heaven I wouldn't be in.
So I keep driving for a while.
With girl at my side wearing a smile.
Make it to somewhere over the horizon of the day.
Driving off into the sky of gray.
(343.) Angel From My Nightmare.
=---------------------------------------------------=
Hello there.
The angel from my nightmare.
You keep me awake when the moon's gone to bed.
Every time I rest my weary head.
I feel as if it's treason.
To hear your voice of reason.
But when I go to bed at night.
And my dreams turn into fright.
I reach out into the dark for you.
Is this feeling true?
Why is it when I am away, I miss you more?
That I think of you for hours and never bore?
I think it's a sign.
That you make me feel so fine.
I think I would have to speculate.
That you are my perfect mate.
I saw you wilt, shrivel, and rise again.
How hard it must have been.
I can only imagine how much strength it requires.
To be there in my darkest spires.
When I'm falling down the endless abyss.
How you toss me the way out and never miss.
You're so special, one of a kind.
Figment of my imagination's mind.
How do you walk this Earth beside me?
In plain site for all to see.
Hello there.
The angel from my nightmare.
By my side you walk so real.
I hold your hand just to see if it is real.
It's really you, the porcelain being.
That light in the darkness I was seeing.
Truly the perfect thing for me to hold.
If I may be so bold.
Angel how did you find your way to my side?
And why is it that you do not hide?
I am to scared to ask these things.
I just accept you for a gift that Heaven brings.
So thank you angel from the nowhere.
Taking me to somewhere.
Forging a new road.
Made of dreams and imagination my mind did unload.
You may just be a lie and not even here.
But I am glad you are near.
(344.) I Am To Frail
=---------------------------------------------------=
I crawled on broken legs because it hurt too much to walk.
I sat still and cut myself because my tears burnt my flesh like acid.
I wrote it all down because the sound of my voice made my ears bleed.
I swallowed my pride and let you rape me because I was too lazy to fight back.
I kept pushing the button to release the medicine because I didn't want to deal with it all.
I died inside because you walked away and I was too scared to follow.
I loved you because you loved me and I was so afraid of being lonely.
Now I am lonely, because I trusted you.
(345.) Dawn
=---------------------------------------------------=
While the day slept night slowly crept up to its side without making a squeak.
It giggled a soft giggle and kissed day gently on the cheek
But as soon as day awoke, night was gone.
Day blushed crimson, and men who saw this called it dawn.
(346.) Snide Girls
=---------------------------------------------------=
Laughing and giggling with me are the girls by my side.
No longer stuck up and snide.
I thought my joke was funny, the one about the pet owner.
But it turns out, they just saw my boner.
(347.) Playing It Safe
=---------------------------------------------------=
The baseball goes flying towards the plate.
Shall he swing or shall he wait?
He waits and the ball hits him in the head.
The safe-player is now dead.
(348.) Overdue Blossom
=---------------------------------------------------=
Like rose petals in their crimson hue.
The time of blossom is long overdue.
Late bloomer in the garden of life.
Girl with sudden bleeding, I feel your strife.
(349.) Pervert's Punishment
=---------------------------------------------------=
Wanking wanking all day long.
Waxing up and down his schlong.
To the porn site he saw on the net.
That is until he saw his mother, bent over a Corvette.
(350.) Bad Children
=---------------------------------------------------=
From miles away you could hear the flesh being torn from the bone.
The shrieks and screams in a horrible tone.
What could cause this horrible plight?
The boogie monster devouring every bad child in sight.
(351.) 102
=---------------------------------------------------=
If I live to be one hundred and two.
I just don't think, I'll ever get over you.
I will always remember.
Our times in December.
Though I will try.
The thought of you still bring a tear to mine eye.
Because no matter how many times the clock makes it around.
Never shall I forget your sound.
Even if I lived to be one hundred and two.
I just don't think, I'll ever get over you.
I could die tomorrow.
Repent of all my sins and sorrow.
But no matter how deep the cuts are carved out.
Nor how much I shout.
You are forever,
Through all that I endeavor.
If I live to be one hundred and two.
I just don't think, I'll ever get over you.
=---------------------------------------------------=
I reached out into the dark to hold your hand.
But nothing was there and my stomach dropped.
I felt sick and alone.
Went to put my arm around my love.
But nothing was there.
I felt so disowned.
Where have you gone?
Why aren't you here?
Sitting with me and holding my hand.
Easing my troubles and settling my mind.
Where are you?
(328.) Virus In A Cancer Patient
=---------------------------------------------------=
Infection originates from the brain.
It is passed down through the nerves.
Synapse after synapse going off.
The muscles move and words begin to form.
As if a virus in a cancer patient it spreads like mad.
From mouth to air, to air to ear.
Each is interpreted in a different form.
Translated, rotated, and made to fit the mind.
As each different one hears what it wants.
The infection spreads farther.
Each vessel gets stronger until they all assimilate.
Into a mass that not even you can stop.
Hear our words and fear our might.
You will join us, by this I swear.
Like a virus in your brain.
On our side, you shall be.
Do not believe this warning I issue?
Just wait to hear it with your own ears.
You'll be infected soon enough.
(329.) Beauty
=---------------------------------------------------=
Beauty.
It is the baby born on the Monday.
Of any given day.
On the freeway.
Beauty.
It is the chubby girl crying in the dark.
Because the models hark.
And eat her flesh like a shark.
Beauty.
It is the tear that rolled down your cheek.
Because you saw heaven and felt too weak.
And even if you live forever, you'll still feel meek.
Beauty.
It is the sun as it hits the sky.
While the birds fly so gracefully by.
And you have to look away or shade your eye.
Beauty.
It is the day after tomorrow.
When you're weeping in sorrow.
Because you asked to hold her hand and her life she let you borrow.
Beauty.
Is a lover's first kiss.
The kind that you shall always reminisce.
And when someone badmouths it you hiss.
Beauty.
It is a poor man's paycheck.
That keeps him so tightly in check.
So that his family may eat and live in something better than a wreck.
Beauty.
It is the porcelain doll in your room.
The soft skinned thing you wish you had in your womb.
But will never have, and carry to your tomb.
Beauty.
It is a raindrop on a leaf.
That falls on your forehead and makes you breathe a sigh of relief.
Even if it is taken away by an Umbrella bearing thief.
Beauty.
It is that thing they try to achieve.
So that there are presents under the tree on Christmas Eve.
That the next morning there is a Christmas for young Steve.
Beauty.
It is the flowers planted on your bed.
As you're underlying 6 feet with the dead.
Because you could take no more and took your head.
Beauty.
It is the first time your baby say's dad.
It reminds you of the greatest moments you've ever had.
Then you realize, life was not all that bad.
Beauty.
It is the picture that the director made.
Experimenting in it's pitch and fade.
The story of the life remade.
Beauty.
It is that feeling you get when you're all alone.
When the slightest noise chills you to the bone.
And you don't reach out to answer the phone.
Beauty.
It is the smile on the girl who never smiles.
Because the power of that grin can drive a man for miles.
In the power of her face, the ability to break down her sad trials.
Beauty.
It is the house that you lived in.
With your sweet kin.
As it is being torn down from within.
Beauty.
It is the first time it runs across the floor.
To meet you when you enter the door.
They scream out "Daddy!" and you long for more.
Beauty
Is the first time that lovers kiss.
As their eyes glaze over in sweet bliss.
It was a trick shot, but not a miss.
Beauty.
It is the passing of age.
As if the turning of a page.
We all turn quickly from babe to sage.
Beauty.
It is every time I see you.
Whether the light reflects off your skin and the light blinds me through.
To the fabled moment when you say you do.
Beauty.
Is more than a word can ever mean.
More than a God has ever been.
Greater than any of us, have ever seen.
(330.) Quicken
=---------------------------------------------------=
Could you end a life in vain?
Or would this action cause you pain?
If I were to plead to you,
for this life to soon be through.
Would you cry and point the gun?
Or break down and run.
In the final moments of my breath.
Could you please, quicken my death?
(331.) Unborn Baby
=---------------------------------------------------=
People cry and parents mourn.
For the short-lived child who lay unborn.
Life enters quickly through the door.
But soon as leave forever more.
If thy life had not been cut so quick,
Would you be a saint or a prick?
Go to school and grow old.
Would stories of prestige be told?
How long would you live to be?
Would you always be free?
Questions asked of you my friend.
Because you were born and met your end.
(332.) Is Heaven?
=---------------------------------------------------=
Is heaven of our own creation?
Spun forth from hell and self-mutilation.
Or is it more us hopeless.
For this I pray and confess.
(333.) Fair Maiden Over There
=---------------------------------------------------=
Virtuous and fair.
The maiden over there.
She blows a kiss and I do too.
Our encounter is now through.
(334.) Supervising Over Earth
=---------------------------------------------------=
Maybe there is someone over the Earth.
Supervising, death and birth.
Like a grandiose Grim Reaper.
Our record keeper.
Was it recorded when I was born?
Or is that page torn?
(335.) Why Pray When You Can Dream?
=---------------------------------------------------=
Why pray when you can dream?
Does this action give you pleasure.
Dreaming does better for me it seem.
Because then my hopes have no measure.
(336.) God On A Knee
=---------------------------------------------------=
God loves you they say.
So they all bow on their knees and pray.
But God has never been on knee for you.
Why shouldn't you do the same too?
(337.) Love For You To Open Your Door
=---------------------------------------------------=
I'd love for you to open your door.
Talk to me and see my reaction.
We'll talk forever and never bore.
Care to open your mouth in action?
(338.) What Would God Say
=---------------------------------------------------=
What would God say?
If he saw what I did today.
Condemn or shun?
Are my days done?
Or will he praise me.
You think he'll see?
The greatness behind my humor.
Maybe he can see why I can laugh at a tumor.
I'd hate to go to hell for a little gag.
At how his cheeks begin to sag.
And how the preacher touched the little boys.
Played with their favorite toys.
Am I to go to hell?
For the funny joke I tell.
(339.) Left Over From Winter
=---------------------------------------------------=
Breezes left over from winter, blow through her hair.
As if an eraser, wiping clean of worry and care.
While the flowers dance madly in the wind.
The sunbeams flow over, and gracefully bend.
To accent the angel, running through the grass.
Troubles like the scenery are quickly flying pass.
Running toward a nowhere.
Chasing a somewhere.
If I am to end up even a few feet from my prize.
If only to still be within the range of her eyes.
I would have made a journey, twice over it would seem.
Of running through a happy, perfect endless dream.
Heaven may be perfect, but it has nothing on her.
To the world around me, a thought may never occur.
Following in the footsteps of the maiden on the run.
A flood of feelings, we label as fun.
With half-opened eyes, a gaze I ask to borrow.
Can I follow with you, and run until tomorrow?
(340.) Love Is A Fool
=---------------------------------------------------=
I saw you at Christmas, sitting by the tree.
I remember you at thee dance, waiting there for me.
Sad and ignored, feeling nothing but hate.
Of this I sure that you are irate.
Maybe if you asked, to join in on the fun.
Instead of being constantly, forever on the run.
I can still picture the first time you say hello.
The slightest notion of you irked me below.
But I still stood by you and said you were a friend.
Until you hurt me, and I put us to an end.
So I see you waiting, right outside the door.
As if you were in the ceilings, wall, and very floor.
Maybe you should say your sorry and admit that I am right.
Be the bigger one, and end this silly fight.
But alas you are too stubborn, ignorant and blind.
As you're the reason, we're in this pointless bind.
So love, you were wrong.
You can stop singing your sad song.
In a fight with my emotions, can this be right?
Why is it that I'm losing, countless sleep at night.
Emotions can be unruly, blind, and cruel.
But be the first to apologize and the beat the old fool.
(341.) Glazed Over Life
=---------------------------------------------------=
Stop and look around.
This is life.
It only happens once I've heard.
I think I'm just here for the view though.
Think of it as a summer home.
I really think I've done well.
It may have it's ups and downs.
A few sad times and worse days.
But, overall it's nice.
Even if I'm alone.
I'd still be able to glare.
Just sorta sit back in amazement.
Glazed over from everything.
It's very beautiful.
Like it was made for me.
Maybe it was.
Oh well.
We live, we grow old, and we die.
The pessimist finds another reason to complain.
Well, I say why care at all.
Now excuse me while I lean back and live.
Even if in the end it will all be in vain.
I enjoyed it while it lasted.
(342.) Sky Of Gray.
=---------------------------------------------------=
Silhouettes of strangers cross my eyes.
Their outlines are graced by gray-blue skies.
A bit of ecstasy by my side.
Holding hands our love we don't hide.
Got a pocket full of a star.
It's not much, but it'll get me far.
Bought my ticket to the afterlife.
So I'll have it ready when I'm in a strife.
Heading on the highway onto tomorrow.
Wearing sunglasses that I had to borrow.
If it were not for the angel with the porcelain skin.
This bit of Heaven I wouldn't be in.
So I keep driving for a while.
With girl at my side wearing a smile.
Make it to somewhere over the horizon of the day.
Driving off into the sky of gray.
(343.) Angel From My Nightmare.
=---------------------------------------------------=
Hello there.
The angel from my nightmare.
You keep me awake when the moon's gone to bed.
Every time I rest my weary head.
I feel as if it's treason.
To hear your voice of reason.
But when I go to bed at night.
And my dreams turn into fright.
I reach out into the dark for you.
Is this feeling true?
Why is it when I am away, I miss you more?
That I think of you for hours and never bore?
I think it's a sign.
That you make me feel so fine.
I think I would have to speculate.
That you are my perfect mate.
I saw you wilt, shrivel, and rise again.
How hard it must have been.
I can only imagine how much strength it requires.
To be there in my darkest spires.
When I'm falling down the endless abyss.
How you toss me the way out and never miss.
You're so special, one of a kind.
Figment of my imagination's mind.
How do you walk this Earth beside me?
In plain site for all to see.
Hello there.
The angel from my nightmare.
By my side you walk so real.
I hold your hand just to see if it is real.
It's really you, the porcelain being.
That light in the darkness I was seeing.
Truly the perfect thing for me to hold.
If I may be so bold.
Angel how did you find your way to my side?
And why is it that you do not hide?
I am to scared to ask these things.
I just accept you for a gift that Heaven brings.
So thank you angel from the nowhere.
Taking me to somewhere.
Forging a new road.
Made of dreams and imagination my mind did unload.
You may just be a lie and not even here.
But I am glad you are near.
(344.) I Am To Frail
=---------------------------------------------------=
I crawled on broken legs because it hurt too much to walk.
I sat still and cut myself because my tears burnt my flesh like acid.
I wrote it all down because the sound of my voice made my ears bleed.
I swallowed my pride and let you rape me because I was too lazy to fight back.
I kept pushing the button to release the medicine because I didn't want to deal with it all.
I died inside because you walked away and I was too scared to follow.
I loved you because you loved me and I was so afraid of being lonely.
Now I am lonely, because I trusted you.
(345.) Dawn
=---------------------------------------------------=
While the day slept night slowly crept up to its side without making a squeak.
It giggled a soft giggle and kissed day gently on the cheek
But as soon as day awoke, night was gone.
Day blushed crimson, and men who saw this called it dawn.
(346.) Snide Girls
=---------------------------------------------------=
Laughing and giggling with me are the girls by my side.
No longer stuck up and snide.
I thought my joke was funny, the one about the pet owner.
But it turns out, they just saw my boner.
(347.) Playing It Safe
=---------------------------------------------------=
The baseball goes flying towards the plate.
Shall he swing or shall he wait?
He waits and the ball hits him in the head.
The safe-player is now dead.
(348.) Overdue Blossom
=---------------------------------------------------=
Like rose petals in their crimson hue.
The time of blossom is long overdue.
Late bloomer in the garden of life.
Girl with sudden bleeding, I feel your strife.
(349.) Pervert's Punishment
=---------------------------------------------------=
Wanking wanking all day long.
Waxing up and down his schlong.
To the porn site he saw on the net.
That is until he saw his mother, bent over a Corvette.
(350.) Bad Children
=---------------------------------------------------=
From miles away you could hear the flesh being torn from the bone.
The shrieks and screams in a horrible tone.
What could cause this horrible plight?
The boogie monster devouring every bad child in sight.
(351.) 102
=---------------------------------------------------=
If I live to be one hundred and two.
I just don't think, I'll ever get over you.
I will always remember.
Our times in December.
Though I will try.
The thought of you still bring a tear to mine eye.
Because no matter how many times the clock makes it around.
Never shall I forget your sound.
Even if I lived to be one hundred and two.
I just don't think, I'll ever get over you.
I could die tomorrow.
Repent of all my sins and sorrow.
But no matter how deep the cuts are carved out.
Nor how much I shout.
You are forever,
Through all that I endeavor.
If I live to be one hundred and two.
I just don't think, I'll ever get over you.
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