I'm stuck now, I have nothing left to say.
Why'd you lead me here? There's nothing left to find
Just don't tell me anything else, the silence hurts less than the distance
Maybe if I weren't already broken, it could have been different
Maybe then the primal workings of a functional human being would have shifted into gears
I'm not the best version of myself however, I never will be, I'm not enough.

Did you hurt yourself on your journey? Was it a long walk?
Time to rest now, lay your head on the pillow and sleep, you've been awake for a long time
Even in your sleep you've been talking about your worries, it worries me
Everyone deserves a long rest without pauses, I think it's time for me to get it
I'm tired of hurting myself, it's exhausting and only leads to further destruction
Not everyone gets stronger from life, some only get weaker as the torment moves along

I didn't intend to end up where I am now but maybe this was for the better
Was I ever ready to face reality as it is, I truly doubt it
It doesn't matter much any longer, the older I get the weaker my spirit becomes
I have no ambition to better myself as I lost that will in myself to strive towards something
There is nothing left in this life I want to do, time is passing so fast and it's quickly running out
I was told to write, but the words are not there for me to grasp

I'm sorry if I hurt you, I truly love you all but this place is too warm and sweaty, I need to get out
I need to get out but there's no-where I want to go, therefore I'll leave it as that. Hope we meet again.

We are happy to chirrup with the others
but would the peacocks dance with us?
Our coats not exotic but shabby and plain
And we like being in places close to our nests
We love the sky and to breathe the clean air
But do not aspire to go where eagles dare
Do not pity us, oh great birds of pride
Our songs are sweeter- never mind our size
For vanity and attention is not why they are sung
But to plug the holes you skewered in our hearts

Women using colors of black |
and white stars. The small city ||
cloud is great. Day and night
are beautiful deaths. Africans ||
are castrated. The girl is an English
lady. There are three American
men in English; In Europe, |
especially poor blue John, having ||
lived in Italy and towards the south ||
In Russia Asian prostitutes blood:

The story is long hair. Georgia's war,
After a few minutes my heart
is on fire In the Christian skin color
changes in Canada Enter the power
of heaven Looking for Tom in yellow;
But it leaves in the German moon.

Robert - Ghent gardener restart R. Julius
Caesar, the Omnibol of Italy. Brazil's ||
destructive things of life, dream a dream
of Russian Jesus turning to the Old
friends Eastern Europe's young Spanish
Easter Loves the radio roots; Stoning
in cities; places I ask about your computer.

But there is only one cup of coffee
and of the text places; Dad is a good
man; Sealed Secrets. A fractured
former leader; There was darkness
in the vitamins of the Spanish letters,
A bed partner to keep. Your mother
is like a snake. Of course toothbrushes...

Rhode Island hearing
of his fame, listens
to the rumors of the
public garbage men.