Yeha....

'cause they're not the family I'd like them to be
I try to see them without me
And my friends
I'd like to hope they'd treat me that way
And that the means'd justify an end
that my new family won't see me
the way I see my family.

Jesus christ I fucked up
In more ways then one
why am I in this rut
Is it for the rotten love
The apple of temptation
I was told not to eat
I was told to ration
That this wouldn't be a valuable feat.

A hollow man
Deep and purple within
Simply a dirt covered hole
Pin striped and everything but thin
Unatractive but comfortably cold
His dreams aren't his
He'll soar the skys alright
But it won't be what he'd dreamed.

What does he dream of?
A solitary road
Freedom and beauty beyond belief
What does he dream of?
Companionship, idiosynchrosis
Love and beauty hidden behind doors
Torn between the two when he has neither.
Beggars can be choosers
If they've nothing to lose.

I'm sorry I was so shallow
I didn't give you a chance
Yeah, you've probably moved on
I can see the appeal
Uncomfortably warm
Sharp edges and a metallic smell

His shoulders blunt edges
The hands smell like dust
Nervous but unshaken
The edges've already begun to rust.