(But)
There's a guitar in the corner of my room,
(But) Doesn't really get used.
There's words in my head I want to put into song,
(But) Too afraid of doing it wrong.
There's some conflicts I want to start,
(But) Don't want to drift apart.
There's some truths I want to spill,
(But) Seems like overkill.
There's a love I want to have,
(But) No way to initiate that.
There's some words I want to share,
(But) You wouldn't care.
There's a whole other life I'd rather lead,
Not doing what I need...to
I'm losing possibilities of love
And keeping those I need to be rid of.
I'm second-guessing myself and making the same mistakes,
That's easier than trying to change.
~Third Degree~
Sitting here
Drinking alone
Should be out but
Fuck! I’m at home
Been feeling ugly
Sick and used
Definitely reckless
Going on a
Short fuse
Got caught
Off guard
My dumb ass
Mind blown
Turn in my
Human card
Become a clone
Or I’ll become
A fuckin Zombie
Or better yet
Slit my wrists
So after you take
Everything else
I’ll still have
Something to give
Bleed me dry
Within your
Twisted cry
Feels like I only
Vaguely exist
Take away my
Will to live
Take for granted
All that I give
Burn my skin
Third degree
Strike me down
So I cannot plea
Keep me low
So I cannot comply
Remain consistent
Each time you lie
Allow me to suffer
For your sins
Let me see life
And where it
All ends
Give me a
6 foot blanket
Of dirt
So you’re not
Obligated to overexert
Or even
Wrinkle your skirt
Strike
Down
My
Misery
Oh sweet
Dealer of
Blaspheme
Daniel
Jacob
Dabney
And My Fucked Up Mind