Friday, December 18, 2009

I hope it goes well
I hope your dad's good
I hope you've got presents
That make you pretty happy
I hope you grow old and
I hope that you find somebody nice

But I can't come to your party, 'cause I think that I'm dead

Thursday, December 17, 2009

We still live in the same town, now don't we?
But I don't see you around anymore.
I go to all the same places.
Not even a trace of you.

Your days are numbered at 24.

I feel no sympathy.
You live inside a cave.

Theres no need to apologize.
I got no time for "feeling sorry."

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Monday, December 14, 2009

Awful awful bag of bones.

Throbbing chest piece made of stones.