Then the little girl looked up at me and asked "Where do the all the lonely people belong?"
And I couldn't answer her because I'm one of them.

It's not until you're in a room surrounded by your closest friends and yet you still find yourself feeling lonely that you understand what the true meaning of being alone is.

That night your lips held more than a kiss,
They held a smile, a laugh...a whisper.
That night your lips held me,
And I swear I held all of you in mine.

The other day you told me that I wasn't enough,
I didn't care enough, didn't want enough
...Didn't love you enough

I carved your name in my arm that night.

Is it enough now?

They hate us.
We are the outcasts, the loners, the aloof. We're those who stand still when they threaten us, and those who run when there's calm.
We are the abhorred, the fascinating, the useless.
We are the discarded.

Now the scary kids, are scaring kids.
While the musicians wallow in their misery, writing the music that will soon be our soundtrack.
And the Priests are praying, begging for forgiveness for the world.

And while the musicians were writing their music, and playing their guitars,
We were stealing their songs,
Claiming them for our own.
Creating the soundtrack of a generation.

And when it's all said and done,
When the world has been destroyed
Leaving the shreds of humanity in ruins,
Who will we find to blame then?

And when I said 'I don't believe in love' you told me to believe in you.

I did just that.

And now I'm still working out if I should have or not.

He asked her once what she wanted.
She looked at him, the saddest look in her eyes.
"I want something to believe in."