domingo, 27 de junho de 2010

Nutshell



We chase misprinted lies
We face the path of time

And yet I fight
And yet I fight
This battle all alone
No one to cry to
No place to call home

My gift of self is raped
My privacy is raked

And yet I find
And yet I find
Repeating in my head
If I can't be my own
I'd feel better dead

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