Pain In Centre Of Body

Play dead

A Moth Into a butterfly / And a lie / Into the sweetest truth / I'm so afraid of life / I try / To call your name but I'm / Silenced by the fear of dying in your heart once Again / I See the Changing Seasons / And into the heart of this autumn I fall / With the leaves from the trees / I play dead / To hide my heart / Until the world gone dark fades away

HIM / Play Dead


My head is spinning ... Can not Think Straight ... All I see is you ... When I close my eyes ...

So do not close Them ... Do not ever close Them ... And keep the heart looked up too, love ...

As always, I Will ...

Urgh! I do not want to see him, no. But he is everywhere. And my eyes are looking everywhere to see ... If he is there ... My eyes yearn, not my heart! (But my heart beats a few extra beats when he's there ... But still! About it) ... We have never talked, never will either. But he is everywhere! And he is not there, I miss him ... How can you miss someone who is not real? Not in my life ... (Today he has gone back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth ... almost touched at me once ...)

He is safe mean.
He is probably dumb-in-his head.
He is certainly arrogant.
He is certainly gay.
He is surely right.
He is certainly Nazz.
He is certainly a Christian fundamentalist.
He is certainly a drunkard.
He is probably dumb.
He is safe ... ugly!

(He has probably already have one ...
He knows for sure that I am not there ...)

Ode to Mr. Black ...