PRADA IS WHAT SHE WEARS!

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

FORCED TO THINK HELL IS A PLACE CALLED HOME

The echoing in her head

The nightmare she can’t awake from

[you make me want to go outside in the alley and shoot myself right in front of you so you can see what you do to me]

So beat her like you always do

Same old night with just a different tune

Bruise her eye and break her ribs

It’s to be expected anyway

C’mon now

Don’t disappoint her

Lay that hand across her face

At least then she feels like somebody

At least then she knows she’s not invisible

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