sister down
it wasn't my time then, it's not my time now
stuck between the sheets of the past and the how
i smell your sweat and i can taste your pain
beneath the laughing and the gloating of gain
i hear your voice like a bell in a steeple
i see your face on the heads of other people
i am sure i know exactly the route you stride along
my brain is an orchestra i can see but hear wrong
tangible friendships monopolized by computers
mysterious strangers are not tame commuters
i'm not sure where bubbles go when they pop
im not sure when the wheels in me will stop
music almost hurts when it hits my heart
i don't remember the beginning so i can't start
the end is near and it brings me peace
i have the same spirit but it has a deep crease
so i get the juice and it feels good to me
but i get anti-social, most definitely
my preference is to go home and listen to my own
hearing my music all alone
it makes me happy
(how many times have you thought of me
when you were intoxicated?)
© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012
