(these bad dreams)

a mass of imperfections in the shape of a scar
everything we do, this is everything we are

lost memories roll across the cold, wet tile
you plot your own death like it’s going out of style
and I continue to have these dreams
where I keep doing bad things
but, I never get caught
but, I’m always on the run
(I know how to feel alone)
you act like it’s so important
that I continue my path of destruction
coz you wouldn’t give your love to me
if I came across any other way…

a mass of imperfections in the shape of a scar
everything we do, this is everything we are

this gasoline tank has been getting heavy
you’ve been filling it since the day you met me
a short and sparse greenery; here is my shield
guarding me tonight from everything considered real
but everything still goes wrong
and my brain sings a distressing song
(my lips just moves along)
my body contorts to make the chords
and these tones come out like some kind of war
but now your gas tank is over-flowing
and you’ve got your match tip glowing…