Chavs,
I'm sorry, but whats the point...

How is it that the rush of adrenaline can be so...
How is it that the smell of rubber can be healing...

Deep in the depths of that putrid cave
I can feel him as he slowly emerges out...

Moving
ever onward...

Its that skip or the heart as they enter the room,
That nervous shuffle as they look your way...

In the pit of the dark
he stands next to me...

I can feel the heat on my skin,
as it breaths down my back...

Life in itself is meaningless without you
the sun has faded...

The curse,
of this putrid flesh...

Wars are fought for it,
yet it is never gained...

Can it ever bring about good?
Can it ever come to an end...

She seems to be,
the only one...