Tuesday, March 29, 2005
CRAWLING
Who talks to me
When the silence gets deep
I hear the fire burning from
Across the street
This cold old hands once
Hold your letter since then
The migraines got stronger
As I started crawling
Everything keeps turning
Around me
I can not find balance
I feel so damaged
The wood floor seems closer
I'm falling of the bed
And I can not hold the sheets once touched you
What's the point of trying
If I have nothing to stand for.
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