A crying girl can **** ya
She'll rip your insides out, and keep them by her bed
A shelf of scars and lovestruck songs, torn to bits and shreds.
The days tick by and you watch your life as she packs and walks away.
The only words upon your lips are maybe just someday--
the world might open up its arms and greet you with a smile,
give your head a tender kiss and walk you through your miles.
Some worlds are not so kindly tho,
they'll beat you down to bits
they'll ask more of you than you could ever be, and push you down until you fit.
The puzzle shifts and flips around until you've lost your ground,
there's nothing you can really do but try your hardest not to drown.
The tears she cries fall like lead upon her trembling face,
the crying girl will bring you down, because you've already lost the race.

The man of life upright, whose guiltless heart is free
From all dishonest deeds and thoughts of vanity:
The man whose silent days in harmless joys are spent,
Whom hopes cannot delude, nor fortune discontent;
That man needs neither towers nor armor for defense,
Nor secret vaults to fly from thunder's violence:
He only can behold with unaffrighted eyes
The horrors of the deep and terrors of the skies;
Thus scorning all the care that fate or fortune brings,
He makes the heaven his book, his wisdom heavenly things;
Good thoughts his only friends, his wealth a well-spent age,
The earth his sober inn and quiet pilgrimage.

A part of her is being eradicated every night
Every time she goes to doze,
The darkness within her guzzles that part
Like a cloud casing the light of moon in the night

She woke up every morning longing for that part
A part of her vivid and memorable yesterday
That leisurely taken away from her
And gradually placing it with emptiness

A day came when darkness utterly frenzied
The diminutive radiance left in her
That day the old her was wholly vanished
Her exquisite self can be found nowhere

She’s alive but living without existence
Felt nothing but pain, emptiness, and loneliness
Those emotions used to be unknown to her
Yet became all she known after that tragic day

Light left her childlike eyes
Brimming with nothing but emptiness
Yet people seen her with overflowing love
Cause she lingered mysterious till the last beat of her heart

Father and Mother, and Me,
  Sister and Auntie say
All the people like us are We,
  And every one else is They.
And They live over the sea,
  While We live over the way,
But-would you believe it?—They look upon We
  As only a sort of They!

We eat pork and beef
  With cow-horn-handled knives.
They who gobble Their rice off a leaf,
  Are horrified out of Their lives;
While they who live up a tree,
  And feast on grubs and clay,
(Isn’t it scandalous? ) look upon We
  As a simply disgusting They!

We shoot birds with a gun.
  They stick lions with spears.
Their full-dress is un-.
  We dress up to Our ears.
They like Their friends for tea.
  We like Our friends to stay;
And, after all that, They look upon We
  As an utterly ignorant They!

We eat kitcheny food.
  We have doors that latch.
They drink milk or blood,
  Under an open thatch.
We have Doctors to fee.
  They have Wizards to pay.
And (impudent heathen!) They look upon We
  As a quite impossible They!

All good people agree,
  And all good people say,
All nice people, like Us, are We
  And every one else is They:
But if you cross over the sea,
  Instead of over the way,
You may end by (think of it!) looking on We
  As only a sort of They!