Reading my eyes will not let you see my soul

You may have control of my heart
but it was love in the end you have stolen

The weatherman is out to get me....

Forgetting everthing i was onced told, letting all the pain take its hold

I miss her face, missing her smell, but most importantly i miss are hands interlaced forgetting about my hell

The smile on her face is sadder then the tears hidden beneath its place

Only in evils nightmare can reality begin to comprehend

You once told me i was your juggalo
the missing piece of your torn heart
that you would become my juggalette
and together we would heal the broken parts