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Friday, July 17, 2009

'59 Reasons To Go To Space (Or Hell)

Young girls
Young girls
Ain't supposed to die on a friday morn
Aren't supposed to live and love
They really shouldn't even be born
Accidentally through society's shocks
They bring out nails and teeth or flee
And bring red blood upon me and you and me
I chase, I dream
I dream, I chase
But no one chases me
Or speaks to me with fire or force
Or passion or looks at me with might
If I make chase, I am the foe
And it is only wise to flee me
But hold back and they drift away
Leaving scars and wounds and pain all the same
And the music
The music
The music keeps me alive
While it reminds me of pain
And cuts me fresh
And wakes me up
I've got 59 reasons to
Fly away to another world
A brilliant alien realm in verdant
Greens and reds
Or a pale grey moon
Or a darkside
Of a moon
And I've got
59 reasons
To go to hell
For all the devils
Are here on earth