I live in a prison
Thats what I call my home...
Summer of July,
Peolpe swimming in the lake...
The sailor talks of squalls, the ploughman of his...
Written wen i was 17;
I'm starting to realize...
With your hand
reach out and...
Who We Are
Black or white, religion or race...
Oh how i loath your modern society
Where your not cool...
Why do we hate, why do we fight
And why do we find it so hard to forgive...
Do not select silence,
For I know that you need someone to talk...
He... standing by the corner,, deranged in red...
she... staring at the stars,, frozen in death's...
The memories that haunt me are those of my own...
All of us feel like dead ends
for the lies just keep slipping...