February 19, 2004 - 1:41 a.m. - Weather
Though my words were strong
You prepared to take me on
Mixing lies with truths
And all the misuses of words rang in my head
Like a jail cell left empty echoing death
Is it so hard to see the truth
Are you as washed up as all the youth
I once knew the man behind your eyes
But now there�s just a coward ready to hide
Now go fill your false reality
And take all your so-called necessities
Then piece the life you have left back together
And build your own blissful fucking weather
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