Post by Reality Bytes on Jul 15, 2004 23:52:47 GMT -5
To E.-
When we were small,
We used to laugh and play.
Now we can't really talk at all.
Like we used to every Sunday.
I miss you,
And then I don't.
I want to talk to you,
But I know I won't.
You hate me now, I think.
Or at least you act like it.
What ever made our friendship sink?
Would you like to talk about it?
Here you go again,
Actin' like I'm a stain.
F*** the Church of Christ,
Made you so, so, haughty.
I know what I announce.
The church wants a damn monopoly
I escaped that curse
Hallelujah, amen!
What a curse,
Brainwashed at ten.
Now I have a clue,
You don’t want to see me.
I know what I can do,
Ignore you, don’t you see.
And there you are,
A mental scar.
Tall and devout,
Going to be too young to die.
Short and ready to shout,
Going to live, then die.
There’s a lot changed,
And a lot the same.
I know I have changed,
You still act and look the same.
I’ve got more to do,
Drama, Journey, stuff.
How ‘bout you?
Art, Spanish, be tough.
Got to grow up,
Drink from Life’s cup.
If this is what growing up means,
Being cold and rocky.
Then I’ll forget all the happy scenes,
And be once again a ‘No talkie.’
Let’s face it,
Growing up means growing apart,
Without tact or wit,
Our words would smart.
Go, take your life in your hands,
Play the game you play.
I’ll take my life in my hands,
And play the game I play.
Let us part here,
In the total clear.
When we were small,
We used to laugh and play.
Now we can't really talk at all.
Like we used to every Sunday.
I miss you,
And then I don't.
I want to talk to you,
But I know I won't.
You hate me now, I think.
Or at least you act like it.
What ever made our friendship sink?
Would you like to talk about it?
Here you go again,
Actin' like I'm a stain.
F*** the Church of Christ,
Made you so, so, haughty.
I know what I announce.
The church wants a damn monopoly
I escaped that curse
Hallelujah, amen!
What a curse,
Brainwashed at ten.
Now I have a clue,
You don’t want to see me.
I know what I can do,
Ignore you, don’t you see.
And there you are,
A mental scar.
Tall and devout,
Going to be too young to die.
Short and ready to shout,
Going to live, then die.
There’s a lot changed,
And a lot the same.
I know I have changed,
You still act and look the same.
I’ve got more to do,
Drama, Journey, stuff.
How ‘bout you?
Art, Spanish, be tough.
Got to grow up,
Drink from Life’s cup.
If this is what growing up means,
Being cold and rocky.
Then I’ll forget all the happy scenes,
And be once again a ‘No talkie.’
Let’s face it,
Growing up means growing apart,
Without tact or wit,
Our words would smart.
Go, take your life in your hands,
Play the game you play.
I’ll take my life in my hands,
And play the game I play.
Let us part here,
In the total clear.
