Words are
Knives to
The throats of
Psychic Children
I'm scared and
I'm bleeding
Can you see me?
I'm fading
Forest fires inside my mind
It happens all the time
I don't know why
But it feels so good
Close my eyes and fear the worst
The wolves outside I feel their thirst
The forest
Keeps them warm
Emotions they swerve
We will learn to survive
Till the rain subsides
(randomness and melodies and what not)
(clapping)
"Um, thanks, thank you for listening to my album, I'm gonna say a little sad poem real quick. It goes like this
The honest truth is
Our minds uses words to change our views
And makes us choose to do things we wouldn't do
If we just knew there was much more to this
That the birds sing for us
The trees breathe for us
But we're so worried about the ghosts hanging onto us
With poor posture we turn poison into voices
Scream so they can hear you
They can't change your view
Words are knives to people like you
Think too much
Paranoid freaks who clutch onto memories
We see things before they happen
Psychic children.
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