15 February 2008
O', a ten ton brick is making me sick
Breaking my bones with the weight of it
Weight would grow with each new soul
Buried fine lies make big black holes
And who am I supposed to be?
Not like yo
Ett framsteg blir ett bakslag
Nånting måste ungått min blick
Objekten under radarn
är de som skapar myter som
slår hål på en orättvis värld
Jag
Say your prayers, little one
Don't forget, my son,
To include everyone
Tuck you in, warm within
Keep you free from sin
Till the sandman he comes
Sleep with one eye open
Gripping your pillow
Keep holdin on,
When my brains tickin like a bomb.
Cuts the black,
Cocks the gun.
Up in to get me.
Sweet bitter words,
Unlike nothing I have heard.
Sing along mocking bird,
You don't effect
Direct link:
http://dayviews.com/annieandren/2008/2/15/