I feel it building
Inside me
Boiling over
The pressure
About to burst
“What do you know?!”
About my pain
It’s personal! Mine!
Your words mean nothing
Your caresses hurt.
I’m a wooden statue
With a heart of
Crushing, oppressive stone.
“How can you know?”
What it is to carry
Such a weight, such a pain.
Such deep, dreary sorrow
Like a worn wool cloak that only
Holds the cold inside.
Sometimes I sit and
Scream inside my head
“Stop this fucking ride!”
I want off… And the shot rings out
Like a marble striking glass
Once there was a funny young man
Thought he’d blow a hole in his head.
Well everyone knows that man can’t…
That man can’t…
But he's got high hopes
He's got high hopes
He's got high apple pie
In the sky hopes...
