| From all those notes I tore up and burnt to ashes; these are the ones that the flames forgot to kiss goodbye. |
| From all those notes I tore up and burnt to ashes; these are the ones that the flames forgot to kiss goodbye. |


Histories and CirclesHere's where the dust settles and dead men tell tales. With guns pointed to our heads,Histories and Circles
we listen, waiting for someone to pull the trigger.
Soon the dead men turn to dust and we take their place. In turn telling tales to those with guns pointed to their heads, waiting for someone to pull the trigger.


For You And Only YouTo the girl whose company I crave like an addiction. You're the needleFor You And Only You
pumping a few short moments of happiness through my cold veins. And like the addict that I am, those moments keep getting shorter with every dose, until there's nothing left but telltale scars on frail arms.
--
To the girl whose voice is the soundtrack to my wanderings.
You keep canceling shows and postponing concerts until all I have are memories and your song that always ends too quickly, leaving only static between my ears.


Children of TomorrowThis darkness never felt more inviting, with stomachs churning and eyelids tightly shut, as the alcohol pumps through dried veins and cracked lungs draw smoke from the air.Children of Tomorrow
One, two, maybe more; another one won't hurt. Light up, light up; its only getting started.
These empty bottles are strewn on the floor littered with comatose bodies, along with the ash and half smoked cigarettes in between slack limbs and vomit colored furniture.
The room is starting to spin but don't stop. Have another one, just one more; this feeling will pass
--
-- NEVER KNOWS BEST --
--
I think you're a boy with eyes like wishing wells that never come true.
When it's almost a heartbeat away from silence she curls up in closets and the lack of oxygen makes her feel like she can fly.
--
-- NEVER KNOWS BEST --
--
I think you're a boy with eyes like wishing wells that never come true.
When it's almost a heartbeat away from silence she curls up in closets and the lack of oxygen makes her feel like she can fly.
--
-- NEVER KNOWS BEST --
--
-- NEVER KNOWS BEST --
--
-- NEVER KNOWS BEST --
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