You're Only What You SeeI hear them say, one by one, each in their own little way, "I'd like to know that somebody cares, even if it were only for a day." Every thought is simply embedded in the back of their heads, shackled to the complex corners of their walls, transfixed in a grotesque fashion on a detest day, strewn upon the strands of their lives like a feeble flower withering in the pestilence of their waning spirit. Once in a weary morning, you wake aloft to the promising scent of life, its pleasance and prominency assuring the independant happiness that expands inside of you. A few years later, on behalf of my desirous heart, I shall hear them say one by one once more, lacking their fear, "I know that somebody loves me somewhere out here."
The DoorThere's a whore at the door.
Knock her out on the floor.
Damn straight, she's sore.
Go ahead, give her more.
Close your ears, she'll implore.
You're the one who she tore.
Look at you, hardcore.