self titled lyric bot

he's seen too many stare downs between the sun and the moon.

i'm just being dramatic, in fact, i'm only at it again as an addict with a pen who's addicted to the wind.

get up johnny boy because we all need you now.

you're my pride and joy.

you don't have the time to make your slits look just right.

because a chair now is like a tiny island in the sea of all the people who glide across the very surface that made his bones feeble.

'cause i will save face for names asake, abuse grace.

they fly around while we are walking and mold our emotions just to please them.

i know i haven't been the best of sons.

and once again i will be in a march to the sea.

but you specialize in dying, you hear me screaming father.

but for now, you told me to hold this jar, and when i looked inside i saw it held your heart for me to walk away with.

so i cracked open my box, someone have picked the lock, a little light revealed the spot where my fingernails had fought, then i pushed it open more, pushing up against the door, then i sat up off the floor and found the breath i was searching for.

i don't fall slow slow like i used to, i fall straight down.

they deflect the disrespect when they say that they blame it on the times.

you will hide from everyone denying you need someone to exterminate your bones.

i am cold, can you hear?

do me a favor and try to ignore as you watch him fall through a blatant trapdoor.

take aim to obtain a new name in a newer place.

you will hide from everyone denying you need someone to exterminate your bones.

friend, please remove your hands from over your eyes for me.

you are tired, you are hurt.

you, you have learned way too soon.

then the wages of war will start inside my head with my counterparts.

and the emotionless marchers will chant the phrase "this lines the only way."

and i will take my precious time as the days melt away and i stand in line.

either way you're by my side until my dying days, and if i'm not there and i'm far away i said "don't be afraid, we're going home."

and honestly, we're probably more suicidal than ever now.

'cause it's all that i have and it's all that i need and the waves of the water mean nothing to me.

because a chair now is like a tiny island in the sea of all the people who glide across the very surface that made his bones feeble.