The GeeksSo hang them highSo hang them slowlyBut hang them highI demand retributionAn early morningBorn a geekSo lay down low and sleep, little sisterJust lay yourself down and bide your timeI know, you know what must happen nowI’ve got stonecold belief in your planHang them high, hang them highWhen you cried at partiesI was never invited inYou fell apart in-front of the guestsI built you up bit by bit, againBit by bit, againBit by bit, againSo I became an expert in waiting aloneYou get used quickly, you wait for someonethe spectacled cobra reflects light, I get you home, unconditionallyBack of my bike you held me, as if in crampYou landed hard, you were probably always sickSo lay down low and sleep, little sisterJust lay yourself down and bide your timeI know, you know what must happen nowI’ve got stonecold belief in your planHang them high, hang them highWhen you cried at partiesI was never invited inYou fell apart in-front of the guestsI built you up
Hold your head up highAll that is and all that’s beenAll we thought and all we dreamed ofAll of our sky-high planningIt fell apart on the little details you forgetI thought I knew what I wantedBut what the heck I was so young and dumb and drunk thenEverything worth knowing you have taught meBut you say I’m not in your debtSo hold your head up highCause I love all that you doHold your head up highIt is all anyone can ask forI know you gave me all your loveUnconditially and without demandsHow I wish that I was worth youThat I could give you something equally grandBut hold your head up highCause I love all that you doHold your head up highIt is all anyone can ask forAnd it was then as nowat last and foreverAnd it was then as nowat last and foreverAnd it was all as you saidAll you thought all you wereAll that you dreamedAll you feltAll you've beenSo hold your head up highCause I love all that you doAnd hold your head up highI have all anyone can ask forIt is all anyo
InSpiteRationYou've got me so inspiredI put the blade to my palm(and press just a little too hard)I make a fist, over my heartand the blood drips in synconto the ground below my feetFrom the scarlet specksgrow roses of darkest blackand palest whiteAll gray-areas gonein this ballroom halldancing routineIt’s pre-planned and timed(don’t you dare miss a beat)we’re stuck in the stepsthey taught us in schoolHow do I get out of herewhen the music never stops?
Instruction ManualA calculated errorI aim to misbehavea broken code of conductits author is Iand I know so wellit would always be this wayI've no codex of rulesJust a head full of "whose?"Music has taught memany a thingbut most important"love comes to the scared"so these wordshave become my toolsbut if I'm wrongthen I'm just a foola total toolless than a mansome form of bestial brand.
TravelingI don't want a ticket for the 10:22 trainEspecially not on some specific railsgoing anywhere at all.I want one for the "never o'clock"Towards nowhere, stopping at the intersectionof death and life, future and past.The crossroad demons smile wary smilesafraid to offer even dealthat cannot be refusedI don't wanna goI don't wanna leaveI don't wanna returnI just wan to travelDo you sell those kind of tickets?
Think About DeathNo one lives foreverat least no one wants to,right?I sure hope not...it would kill me if they did,it would kill me if I did.For if you live long enoughyou'll see all things fallgood and bad, no:time doesn't care at all.Think about deathas a saviora catcher in the rye,it will never let you stumbleof the edge of consciousnessinto the abyssof helpless solitudewhen all you knewhas diedand where you knowthat all that iswill die too.Death, ironicallylends us the illusionthat some things do,actually,last forever.No one lives foreverbut the deadcan't be sure.
It doesn't rain hereIt doesn't rain from the sky hereIt rains from trees,the ground,the people,it doesn't rain form the clouds here.It rains from the houses,their walls, doors, windows,and from the people that hide,lock and peer out from within them.It rains from clouds in the sky here,for that's what the people are.We are the clouds that dot the innocent,empty canvas, that this city is.Only at night,when the streets grow scarce of people,the city doesn't sleep,you can hear it breath.It does not rain,but the city showers,and the people cry,and all in all,it looks a lot like rain.In the endit's just waterwith a tang of salt.
Could Have Been (Our Song)If hate is just love gone wrongthen we could have been fantasticBecause I love the way you movebut I hate the way you sing.Yes, I love this song,and you've got the dance just right,but you're slaughtering it.It's not your voiceand it's not the wordsYou know the lyrics so welland you sing them so beautifullyIt's a feelingsomewhere behind the wordsthat just isn't rightoh, isn't right at all.You turn love-songsinto odes of silenceYou turn rock-n-rollinto sticks-n-stonesYou turn pop aroundinto something worthlistening to.Yes, if any publicity is good publicitythen it explains why they saythat love can start with a warbecause then all attentionis good attentionand I’m paying it to youin how I could have been screamingscreaming out loud“You’re ruining our song!”Though wewe share nothingWe've got no songno tune is oursand if it wasif there was such a songI bet you could sing itand I would never complainI would have no complaintss
I hate the way I have to...I hate the way I have to be rightI hate the way I have to define everythingI hate the way I have to let logic dictate meI hate the way I have to go out of my way to accidentally ignore you when you need me the most I know you love me. Giving you space from me, in hindsight that really makes me the dumbest idiot