What a fucking travesty albums can be, you stick memory onto them...

My mind's an album too but with a difference. One day it captured eyes, her eyes...the one memory I could do without but no, it wouldn't go away, just wouldn't go away, especially when I am in the higher rungs of my consciousness, her eyes would stick there. Even if someday I went insane, they'd fucking stick there, fucking annoying.

The hearts a picture book of images one doesn't need, burn it

Its only alcohol baby, wouldnt kill me
although I wish it did
....sometimes, not always though
they say it benumbs you to your pains...


bullshit


you cant feel your limbs, your face or your eyes...
cause it leaves you alone...
isolated with a buzz in your ears and an ache in your heart
it leaves you alone
you and your heart, alone
you and your mind, alone

Alcohol is your estranged love, another bottle please.