I Turned Out This Way (Men Are All the Same)Twice lucky third times the charmI've got the marks you left on my armsNo not a cutter nor a junky disguisedJust a case of came home too early this timeWe wear our minds on our sleevesWe type out path for all to seeThey say we've lost touch among the screensI say we lost touch when we climbed down the treesI'm not the victimNo II'm not the victimThis timeI'm not the one whoOhI'm not the one who... let's goFight fire with fire?Why botherThe gender games we playLaid down for reasonsWe'd rather not knowLet's face itThings ain't prettyBut things ain't badYet we dream of worldsWe could never haveNoWhite male and straightI guess life worked out my wayAll empty and left fighting wallsIn hopes they crumbleAnd I find somethingWorth fighting forI'm not the victimNo II'm not the victimThis timeI'm not the one whoOhI'm not the one who... let's goI'm not the victimNo II'm not the victimThis timeI'm not the one whoOhI'm not the one who... let's goLet's g
PureHands in pockets, not caring a thing,when they view themselves as people,deemed different to everybody else.They were once children and now humans,that are free to do what they want.But I ask myself,must I be part of the majority?Alcohol, strobe lights, sex and good times,elements that make up a man.Elements that a boy would request.Sometimes, actions are questionable,destroying their bodies with chaos,although they don't show intention,but I'm certainly not convinced.City life moulds all the populace,where they crave for the midnight glow,to forget their monotonous days.Boyfriends and girlfriends, do what you want,lose virginity if you want.But don't you dare drag me INTO THIS~~I will not taste the poison,I'd rather feel pure.And I will not be blinded by,The ominous lights.And be kept clean,from all dirty acts.If that's how they live,then that's okay.But I,will,not,be,like,ANY OF THEM~~Other people say I am insane,for not biting into the fruit.Well
Little MichaelI'd like to sing to you before you sleep,cradle your head, eyes heavy and deep,Oh, Little Michael,Oh, Little Michael,how precious you are.Little Michael, Little MichaelYou smile like the stars,Your teeth are pearly,as pure as your soulYour smile, is so prettyits worth more than goldOh, little MichaelLittle MichaelYour light would go farOver the sea, growling angrythey'd tuck so, and rollReaching out to a shiplost in the coldLittle Michael, Little MichaelThats how pure you are,Little Michael, Oh MichaelYou smile like the stars.You'll stay just as pureeven after you're old,Nothing can't taint ya'boy,Nothing can take my boy,Little, Michael,Oh, my little MichaelYour story is told.
Caged (WIP)Confined behind my iron doorA room kept locked for evermoreI hold the key, day after dayBut here I stay and fade awayMy windows let the light shine throughBut such a view would be tabooSo I have pulled the curtains closedTo sit in fear ‘till decomposed
ImmortalPress pauseReloadPoint your gunsAnd then your toes'Coz we are a disasterYeah we are a messWe are the failuresOf which we were blessedThey say if deeds are the fruitThen words are the leavesYou swear you never meant itBut then you say so many thingsAnd nothing comes easyTo the unwillingBut nothing tastes sweeterThan going down swingingI swore the kindest thingsI swore you diamonds and queensI swear you know nowI'm the deamon of dreamsThey say if deeds are the fruitThen words are the leavesYou swear you never meant itBut then you say so many thingsAnd nothing comes easyTo the unwillingBut nothing tastes sweeterThan going down swingingI could be the rightTo your filthy wrongI could be the lightTo all that you wantAnd I would have been your suturesBut now I split you in halfI could have fixed youIf only I knew to fix myselfI swore the kindest thingsI swore you diamonds and queensI swear you know nowI'm the daemon of dreamsThey say if deeds are the fr
when the dolls wake upI am facelessin your playsetsyour touch just tastesthe textureof the fabricsstripped to the plasticas the past stainsthe safetyof all soft thingsbut when the dollswake upin the store roomof your store bought heartall you fought forand lost was just a broken mirrorthat coated the courtyard a cold winterbleeding fingers needand penitent knees dropto make it jewelryand wait to paint the nape of the nextexposed neck(and she was youngand love was just then a drugall pins and needles huntingbutterflies in the blue skiesthat wallpaper her dollhouse inside)