IRC-Galleria

Oh yes, I know this tension
that you speak of
We're in the palm of a hand
making a fist
It'd be best for one of us
to speak up
But we prefer to pretend it
does not exist

And you can't see past the
blood on my hands
To see that you've been
aptly damned
To fail and fail again

Cause we're all guilty of
the same things
We think the thoughts
whether or not we see them
through