I am no sculpter
I am no painter...

In a place with no water
A flower will die and turn to dust...

In life we worry what people think
In death we worry about our deeds...

Object of my affection
Th rusted love's direction...

They say I'm beautiful
No one beyond compare...

Your eyes bore into my skull
Trying to find a passion not there...

You get jealous
When I talk to your crush...

As i lay on my bed crying
The covers swallow me whole...

There's a time when a child dies
All life seems to stop...

For too long you have stared down smiling as you...
For too long you have pranced across the crimson...

My own aged guilt rises past me in agony
Feeding off my own blood sweat and tears...

Notice me crying?
Yeah the girl in the back...