Luyện nghe bài hát Pitchers Of Silence

i never a funeral for that big part of me that died.
i need to put these thoughts to rest. i to find a peace of mind.
i need to piece my mind, a piece of mind to rest in.
need to find someone to in, and with the rest i need to start restin'.
to say, i couldn't hide.
fifteen men shouldn't cry.

had i known what i know now.
had i now what i knew then...
i might be human
with all the stupid fix-ins.
as i fix sins and vick souls,
clothes for the characters they play then switch roles.
nail me to the dress.
the holy cloth less.
i'd toss
if i still had your soft breasts to my head on.
since been gone,
i recalled my issues with problems and
but i can't remember the model or make.
now bottles break in my death grip.
i'm about to take the next exit and end this head trip.
my bed's of its blankets, comforters, pillows and sheets,
but i might have to peel off all my skin to remove your in order to sleep.

i had my and lows.
when on top, i let you out over my nose.
sitting on my shoulders and i if i had a backbone,
you might be here.
my is filthy...
from my lows you weren't there. but to keep from feeling guilty,
i the dirt (collected the dirt)...kept it piling up.
now mr. feel nothing saves his inside of a cup
and he drinks (and he drinks). and he forgets that an asshole.
jealous of his ghosts and doubts he has a soul.

my secret have my inner demons gossiping.
i'm a ghost writer for the horrorcore my personal monsters sing.

i'm sitting in a tub...
with all my clothes on...shivering...considering the of love.

they get of what i have to give...if that.
it's all about the packaging. distracted by the gift rap.

predictable. to manipulate.
they're foreshadow and i'm waiting for their strings to break.

the pillars that once held up my halfway house have been out.
i'm in my days now.
there's a coming soon.
i just want to crawl back into my womb.
i a comfort zone,
but obviously i need to another home
to call my own...and return to
and i want it to be you (i it to be you).

i sit and stare, out, think a lot and never sleep,
creating to remember and then i forget to eat.
went to the street you used to on, staring at the bedroom window of your old home
with eyes...waiting for god to throw me a bone.

i'd settle for one more goodbye while i settle for less.
i'm unsettled at best. while abandoning settlements.
insulting my companions intelligence...conversing baby talk.
practicing games. rehearsing with playful thought.

it's the way we fought that made my blood bubble then cold,
when you made me through rain and mud puddles on a dirt road.
it me so messy,
me...not.

i've got mud to sling...

shot.
"through the heart, and to blame, you give love a bad name."