Bad Guy
You stab right through the filter That I use to be free. You can't move without shackles, Can't speak with clean air. Your vision lies behind you, Your power's just a dream. And all that you see in the mirror Sheds nothing upon your face, And I'm not sure that I need you, Not sure that you're there... You're just a small morsel Of the man you think to be. And I hope the best for you, Because I'm sure I'm the only one... But I doubt that hope knows you. And I don't have faith in you, Only faith in what you're not. And all the posion that you speak Is sour on my tounge, but sweet to your face, Yet you taste nothing. Why? So here lie my words. Help Yourself.I'm not bitter or anything.... Written February 4th, 2002 © on Feb 04 2002 03:05 PM PST 0 • 10
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"You stab right through the filter..."