Luyện nghe bài hát Pitchers Of Silence

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

had i known then i know now.
had i thought now i knew then...
i might still be
with all the little fix-ins.
as i fix sins and vick souls,
stitch clothes for the characters they play then roles.
me to the cross dress.
the cloth costs less.
i'd less
if i still had your soft breasts to my head on.
since you've gone,
i recalled my issues with problems and
but i can't exactly the model or make.
now glass bottles in my death grip.
i'm about to take the next quick exit and end head trip.
my bed's stripped of its blankets, comforters, and sheets,
but i might have to peel off all my skin to your scent in order to sleep.

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

my pleasures have 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 on...shivering...considering the dangers of love.

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

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

the pillars that once held up my halfway have been taken out.
i'm in my days now.
there's a coming soon.
i just want to crawl back my mother's womb.
i a comfort zone,
but obviously i need to 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, zone out, think a lot and sleep,
memories to remember and then i forget to eat.
went to the street you used to live on, staring at the bedroom window of 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 unsettled at best. sulking abandoning settlements.
insulting my companions intelligence...conversing with talk.
practicing mind games. rehearsing playful thought.

the way we fought that made my blood bubble then turn cold,
when you me walk 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 your to blame, you love a bad name."