Wardrobe of Eunuchs

L'histoire de Moi

Thursday, May 13, 2004

THAT'S WHAT HURTS THE WORST

This is what it is to be left alone

How can people see the day if everything's gray?
It tickles like the spinal tap you never asked for
And it seethes like the old man's last breath
How can it be so hard to believe
When you've already realized that there's nothing left?

God, the rain is so cold now-a-days
And it splashes down as a wraith over the meek
And the people around you think they see right through you
And your friends blame you for seeing right though them
And it's so hard to keep a straight face when they point
Because it's you that they are betraying

The white-hot anger seeps through every core
Until there's nothing left
And you melt into a liquid with no place to go
Then they finally throw you off the cliff
And even your most beloved peice of yarn
Refuses to be knit
But instead, it stabs you in the heart
But, of course, you forgive and forget

You forgive and forget

Open your eyes, and see what you've done to me!
Turn on the lights, and look you at my wounds!
They stab; the stab you in the dark
And that's what hurts the worst of all

And that's what hurts the worst