Discharge From Vergina

Lydia has a live journal ...

believe it or not, I did it. LOL. Actually I wanted to make none at all, but then it was done yet. I must first find your way here. Find the still all a bit ... confusing and complicated, but it sets itself, I guess. I leave first as a nice greeting. Lydia

Squash String Tension

WITH THE LIGHTS OUT

You sitting there,
in your dark room,
Everything is old,
nothings new,
You know every part,
of your raped brain,
seems like a pain,
you have to hide,
And you are not happy , I cannot explain
,
my mind is dark,
The Hi-Fi sounds are not loud,
My ears in doubt,
I want to be alone,
No one around,

With the lights out,
Oh, oh, oooohh,
With the lights out,
Hmm, mmmh, hmmm.

Do you understand,
She starts to explain,
What no one can feel,
When it is grey outside,
My mind turns black,
Do you understand?
The problems at home,
And the whole stress,
I am at the end,
I always forget,
The better days,
Instead of that,
I dig a deep hole,
To live and die in,
The conception is scary,
That could disappoint me,
I am on a foul cloud,

With the lights out,
Oh, oh, oooohh,
With the lights out,
Hmm, Mmm, hmmm. kitchen

Some day you'll reach the end,
wracked In a,
Looking out of the window,
Into the deep night,
The windows across, overexposed,
I write on a blackboard, chalk
With yellow,
Words of goodbye,
That no one can shout,

With the lights out,
Oh, oh, oooohh,
With the lights out,
Hmm, mmmh, hmmm,
With the lights out!


© 2008 The Tiff (ys)