LATE LAST NIGHT I WAS LOOKING THROUGH PICTURES, FLOODED WITH MEMORIES, I LIE ON THE FLOOR AND SPREAD THEM AROUND ME, LIKE FRIENDS AT A PARTY, THEIR FACES REMIND ME OF ALL THAT I'VE KNOWN, STILL I CANT FORGET, ALL THE HUSHED WHO AND WHY'S, ALL THE FICTION AND LIES, ALL THE TEARS AND LAUGHS, TAKE A WALK THROUGH THE PAST YOU AND I, HAND IN HAND, AS WE LOOK AT THIS THING CALLED US, LATE LAST NIGHT I WAS PACING THE HALLWAY, READING THE LETTERS YOU SINGED, I TURNED OUT THE LIGHTS AND IMAGINED YOU WITH ME, I TRIED MY HARDEST TO CRY BUT IT JUST WOULDN'T COME, STILL I CAN'T FORGET. a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"
.. CRAWLING IN MY SKIN, CONSUMING ALL I FEEL, FEAR IS HOW I FALL, CONFUSING WHAT IS REAL, THERE'S SOMETHING INSIDE ME THAT PULLS BENEATH THE SURFACE, CONSUMING/CONFUSING, THIS LACK OF SELF-CONTROL I FEAR IS NEVER-ENDING, I CANT SEEM TO FIND MYSELF AGAIN, MY WALLS ARE CLOSING IN, WITHOUT A SENSE OF CONFIDENCE AND IM CONVINCED, THAT THERES JUST TOO MUCH PRESSURE TO TAKE, I'VE FELT THIS WAY BEFORE, DISCOMFORT,ENDLESSLY HAS PULLED ITSELF UPON ME, DISTRACTING/REACTING, AGAINST MY WILL I STAND BESIDE MY OWN REFLECTION, IT'S HUANTING HOW I CANT SEEM TO FIND MYSELF a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"
Lil Rob Bring Out The Freak In You Music Video Codes By Music Jesus.com this fantasy layout at HOT FreeLayo
IT IS THE VOICE OF YOUR LAUGHTER THAT ECHOES IN VAIN. IN THE VESSEL OF YOUR SORROW AND PAIN. IT IS THE BEAT OF A HEART THAT YOU HEAR IN YOUR MIND. SOMETHING'S MISSING BUT YOU CANNOT EXPLAIN. YOU'VE SEARCHED YOUR SOUL FOR FEELING. THERE IS NO USE IN DREAMING. IT IS THE CHAIN THAT YOU'RE DRAGGING THAT WAS ONCE YOUR RELIEF. THAT'S LIKE EVERYTHING THAT'S BORN TO DIE AND THE BIRTH OF DOUBT THAT WAS ONCE YOUR BELIEF. IS DROWNING IN TEARS THAT YOU CRY. IT ALL REMAINS A MYSTERY FOR EVER AND EVER NOW. THE THINGS THAT WERE ARE HISTORY NOW. IT'S NEVER TOO LATE TO CRY. IT'S NEVER TO LATE FOR GOODBYES. YOU KNOW YOU WERE BORN TO DIE. IF THE MESSIAH IS COMING WILL HE BE TOO LATE. TO RECONCILE OUR TEARS WITH OUR HATE. AND THE MEMORY OF FREEDOM THAT IMPRISONS OUR HEART. AS WE'RE GREETED BY THE COLD HAND OF FATE. a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"
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