Cerce все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

I’ve been writing a lot or at least I’ve been trying to. I think it’s because you’ve been doing the same but my output doesn’t compare to words so eloquently pieced together. I can’t translate the input in the first place: I’ll pick up a pen and force a soliloquy of fragmented words mixed with the intention of cryptic feelings in poor penmanship and contrived ballpoint ink.

I’ll drive down the all too familiar roads and highways with you in the passenger seat until our car runs out of gas. I know if we’re together, we’ll never find a home and that’s exactly what we’re never looking for: not in New England, and not anywhere.

I’ll feel sequestered for the rest of my life
because I don’t know any better,
until you’ll come around again
with words that make me feel some kind of worth.

I still get terrified of who I have become
I still don’t sleep most nights because my dream is that I don’t wake up
there are ghosts inside my lungs, there are devils in my head
here are pieces of me that are better left dead.
I’ll keep my head in the clouds and one foot in the grave
in hopes that someday I might change.
I’d be the brightest light that you have ever seen,
but I’ve grown too dark, I’m just a shadow of myself

I’m a pile of bones,
Empty and disposable
Don’t you dare fucking tell me I’m too pretty
Tell me about your fear of loss
Right before walking out
I’m still bare, I’m still bare
I’m still bare, I’m still bare
Ribs exposed and all