When you stay up till one in the morning eyes red finding that you are caught in a bind which
Rips you apart page by page each line becomes tainted with blood and
If only for a moment life became easy again when the words used to flow like river
That rushed onto the pages in the form of ink it had a life a soul which was all it's own
Every word almost popped and crackled like burning embers of the fire
Ripping the night apart, leaving only light and something golden
Singing to the heavens in praise of each and every word that builds itself up
Break it down to the beat that is so out of time and caught out of tune
Living in each of our heads, we try to lie to ourselves each day we silently beat each
Other with in an inch of our lives and we don't call it suicide and we can never
Call it homicide. It is just climate control where we secretly take time to
Kill ourselves and create something new, something from the pits of our souls
Build it up like children with there toy blocks
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