Mannella
11/05/07, 04:00 PM
I fell asleep in a rocking chair tonight.
Fading into dreams and sleep's burn of honesty.
Waking now, but the urge to scream is still under my skin.
Because what I find special now, may turn me in.
Lowering my standards day by day, all I can hold onto is a dream.
Tonight, in the dark under the ceiling,
my ears are ringing, and my lips are stuck to a cigarette.
The best I've had to say are the words I've never said.
Instead of waiting for conversation, I blurt short presentations.
Running straight for the chorus, where did the verse hide away?
Sweaters always wear out when worn.
All these silver linings are lined with grit and grime.
An oily film, wasting away at the corners,
just waiting for water to wash away the smoke and scent.
The city is my witness, as the streetlights flicker and die.
I want to put away the dictionary, forget about vocabulary.
Honesty is the spark before the flame,
and my conscious poses a silent question again
are you ready to run?
Fading into dreams and sleep's burn of honesty.
Waking now, but the urge to scream is still under my skin.
Because what I find special now, may turn me in.
Lowering my standards day by day, all I can hold onto is a dream.
Tonight, in the dark under the ceiling,
my ears are ringing, and my lips are stuck to a cigarette.
The best I've had to say are the words I've never said.
Instead of waiting for conversation, I blurt short presentations.
Running straight for the chorus, where did the verse hide away?
Sweaters always wear out when worn.
All these silver linings are lined with grit and grime.
An oily film, wasting away at the corners,
just waiting for water to wash away the smoke and scent.
The city is my witness, as the streetlights flicker and die.
I want to put away the dictionary, forget about vocabulary.
Honesty is the spark before the flame,
and my conscious poses a silent question again
are you ready to run?