no one loves you
as I do
no one cares for you
  as I do
no one sees you
as I do
no one serves you
as I do
no one hold you close
as I do

Ripped jeans,
Stripped means,
Why is it you want me
But only in the evening

I dress up I play nice
I smile wide, my lips say "sure"
But you bend my spine a little more
Is this living, or is it war?
And what am I even fighting for?

Am I just the price tag for love?
A discount in the corner of the store,
The half-off story of love you never pay the price for?

But now no more,
No more half-love store
No more spark to take-
When the lights are low

Enough of your mouth-
Whispering your empty heart
I'm no longer your midnight show
The use of my skin you always tore,
I don't want the 'maybes' anymore.

I'm done being the puppet,
Put on the shelf, with a disguise
Not really a lover but not a stranger
I'll take what mine, I'll speak my truth
And from here on out
I am the only one dependent of my mood.

We morn with, not without
The losses with which we bury
A loan to a slave
As bitter end has to prey
Upon our souls
In tempers ferocious
Lest the eye lift
Before the rye


Also an emptiness machine

she is desperate
nothing she attempts
leads to success
she tries hard
to achieve her goals
but she always fails

I feel sorry for her
as she does not realise
that trying hard
but always failing
simply means
she should change direction

Then the end credits play,
to the tune of mayonnaise.

He sees his high-scores,
his achievements,
his count of lays,
his count of eaten tangerins,
his time spent loving,
his time wasted.

His family and friends
his friends and family,
wave bye to him,
they all cry.

He sees their ending as well.
And all their off-springs too.
He sees himself remembered for the last time.        
He sees the end of the world.
And the end of everything.

And all his questions answered.
And ALL YOUR MYSTERIES SOLVED.
AND EVERY HELP YOU'VE GOTTEN FROM YOUR FRIENDS.
AND EVERY TIME YOU'VE HELPED BACK.
AND EVERY HUG GIVEN IN WELCOME.
AND EVERY DOG AND CAT AND ANIMAL LOVED!
AND EVERY GREAT MELODY EVER MADE.

the way of St. James
preserves mounds of ancient steps
under bending oaks