the cut on my lip, the scar on my ankle

I know what you told me. Yes yes, a million times around.

You never knew, the blisters on my toes. You never saw, the cracks in my hands. i never told you, about the burnt tongue.

If it were a crash,

  if it were a soda,

no.... no, it would never be your way again, would it?

Survive early morning wanderings. The art of will. You broke aalong time ago. We are a suicide, marinated in the finest spices, and with a liberal helping of wasted souls.

you left me defective. You kicked through the sand castle. If you were to see my ghost walking down the street, I would hope that you'd notice my limp.

but there's the way it went. There's the way it happened.

and then there's the heartache

and then there's the heartache.