"i sit here shooting blanks out at emptiness. there is nothing left to kill, maybe time i guess. sit and spin the world on its flip side and i listen backward for its meaning. lonely makes me blue, Envy turns me green, Hate might paint me red, If I load my magazine But not just now when it's easy to stay clean When no one sees where you're bleeding, and im a stick man."-e.s.
i dont want to live inside myself anymore, got a hand full of cold damp air, and a head full of holes, heart full of anger without an enemy to choke--maybe i just dont care, i keep playing a distant misery off of a disease, and everyone's asleep to what goes on inside the borders of a page, wrote for me to see tomorrow or in a century, i dont know what to cure the sickness or the pain, got a city full of saints trying to keep me clean, shooting out their mouths tiny whispers to the Eternal to set me free, im grateful for everything, maybe some day i can know what it all means, and dissolve the supercell bellowing in off a fall inside of me, i dont know what i need, i just know what i dont when everything seems so abstract and out of place, make me love a girl to replace the chemicals and mirrors that catch me, make me love the world to live for another day worth saving, its not so far gone as it seems, i just cant.