Post by Bex *Crop Circles In The Sun* on Jun 11, 2005 21:57:48 GMT
Don’t tell me what I want,
Don’t tell me what I need.
Don’t tell my ghosts not to haunt,
Because the words they say, I heed.
There’s not a lot more to say,
Behind your back or to your face.
Even though I imagined it from day to day,
I still think about it with much haste.
Hate, what a wonderful word,
To me it’s the opposite of twice merge.
Hate, what a powerful phrase,
Even seems so nice in a misty daze.
There’s nothing more I can say or do,
When my life comes to you.
There’s nothing more I can act upon,
When we both know you’ve already won.
I laugh at your suggestions, you laugh at me,
These emotions willing to set me free.
What can I do to change my mind?
What can I do to make it mine?
Hate, what a powerful word,
But these threats go unheard.
Hate, what a powerful phrase,
Not much to say, when in this phase.
Sick for years and now I’m tired,
Of the way you’ve made it all.
I just wanted you to be dead,
Harder to head, easier to fall.
Things can be bad, things could be good,
If you weren’t always in a mood.
You put the pain in gloom,
From day one this ship was sure to doom.
Hate, what a tender word,
Don’t think of myself as dirt.
Hate, what a caressing phrase,
My mind’s a complex maze.
Don’t tell me I don’t feel pain,
Because all those memories remain.
What else is there for me to say?
I do wish the mind of my own away.
For just a minute of each darkened night,
I wish that our hearts could be set alight.
This the end of our crossed story,
When it ends, don’t come to me.
Hate, what a horrible word,
But for me there’s nothing I’ve learnt.
Hate, what a finalised phrase,
Deciding in so many ways.
Don’t tell me what I need.
Don’t tell my ghosts not to haunt,
Because the words they say, I heed.
There’s not a lot more to say,
Behind your back or to your face.
Even though I imagined it from day to day,
I still think about it with much haste.
Hate, what a wonderful word,
To me it’s the opposite of twice merge.
Hate, what a powerful phrase,
Even seems so nice in a misty daze.
There’s nothing more I can say or do,
When my life comes to you.
There’s nothing more I can act upon,
When we both know you’ve already won.
I laugh at your suggestions, you laugh at me,
These emotions willing to set me free.
What can I do to change my mind?
What can I do to make it mine?
Hate, what a powerful word,
But these threats go unheard.
Hate, what a powerful phrase,
Not much to say, when in this phase.
Sick for years and now I’m tired,
Of the way you’ve made it all.
I just wanted you to be dead,
Harder to head, easier to fall.
Things can be bad, things could be good,
If you weren’t always in a mood.
You put the pain in gloom,
From day one this ship was sure to doom.
Hate, what a tender word,
Don’t think of myself as dirt.
Hate, what a caressing phrase,
My mind’s a complex maze.
Don’t tell me I don’t feel pain,
Because all those memories remain.
What else is there for me to say?
I do wish the mind of my own away.
For just a minute of each darkened night,
I wish that our hearts could be set alight.
This the end of our crossed story,
When it ends, don’t come to me.
Hate, what a horrible word,
But for me there’s nothing I’ve learnt.
Hate, what a finalised phrase,
Deciding in so many ways.