Luyện nghe bài hát Pitchers Of Silence

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

had i known what i know now.
had i thought now i knew then...
i might be human
with all the stupid fix-ins.
as i fix and vixens vick souls,
stitch clothes for the characters they play switch roles.
me to the cross dress.
the holy cloth less.
i'd less
if i had your soft breasts to rest my head on.
since you've gone,
i my issues with problems and hate
but i exactly remember the model or make.
now glass bottles break in my grip.
i'm about to take the next quick exit and end this trip.
my bed's stripped of its blankets, comforters, and sheets,
but i might have to off all my skin to remove your scent in order to sleep.

i had my and lows.
when on top, i let you peek out my nose.
sitting on my shoulders and i if i had a backbone,
you might be here.
my is filthy...
from my lows when you there. but to keep from feeling guilty,
i the dirt (collected the dirt)...kept it piling up.
now mr. feel saves his tears inside of a cup
and he drinks (and he drinks). and he forgets that an asshole.
jealous of his and doubts he even has a soul.

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

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

they get half of what i to give...if that.
all about the packaging. they're distracted by the gift rap.

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

the pillars that once held up my house have been taken out.
i'm in my days now.
there's a change soon.
i want to crawl back into my mother's womb.
i need a zone,
but i need to find another home
to call my own...and always 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 memories to remember and i forget to eat.
went to the street you used to live on, at the bedroom window of your old home
with eyes...waiting for god to throw me a bone.

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

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

i've got mud to sling...

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