Il est a moi,
Il n'est pas.
Il est ma vie,
Il va surement etre mon deces.
Il me fait sourire tant que je suis pres,
Il me fait sourire tant qu'elle ne l'est pas.
Ma tete c'est quoi ne pas faire,
Mon coeur c'est seulement ce qui pourrait etre.

I seek you angel of death;
Breath down my spine,
taint my soul with your tongue.
Steal my final breath and relieve me of this burden;
Open my eyes to your world.

This sickness shall grow
As each stroke hits the canvas
I'll paint the sink red

It’s there
Under all the scar tissue and bones,
the blood and muscles,
there lies something that has its own mind.
It overpowers your brain,
sends shock-waves down your spine,
and in the end, controls you.
No matter what you’ve experienced,
no matter what you know is ‘best’,
it only takes a single glance for your heart to go mad and turn against you
Love is cruel,
love is careless,
love is blind;

Stop wasting your time on a girl who doesn’t give two ***** about your heart
It doesn’t end with a sunset fading in the distance
She won’t change her mind and her feelings on you,
let alone her passion for leading men on
You’re just a trophy,
an addition to her collection of stolen hearts
Yet you latch on
and don’t give a **** about what I have to say
But hey,
if you honestly don’t want my help,
if you don’t want a friend,
I’m ok with walking past you
as you try to pretend she hates the stares she gets;

Is it fair to say
I've found the one
I hope to lie next to
In summer heat
near the crashing waves
as the fading sun
bursts at its seams
to kiss as people sleep
and run down baren streets;
Not caring what people think
as we scream in woods
once the stars are at their peak;
I've found the one
to make memories with;

What we need
is impossible to achieve;
What we feel, is not the same
As what we once felt
Our love has turned to nothing more
than heartless boughts of heated intimacy
Achieved without an ounce of passion;
We're run dry, yet we can't let go
So we cling on;