Not your cure (starsoldier) wrote,
Not your cure

Slipping on rocks i've made,
From twisted designs.
Into a river of torment.
It's what i do best.
A master,
But shotty in execution.
Your hand is reaching to save me,
Why oh why then,
Am i slipping away?

Sitting down,
Its explained like this:
It's like a cigarette burning in your lips,
That taste you just cant make go away.
It's clinging to you,
Dragging you down,
Second by second,
Season unto season.
It's your new perfume.

Bleeding internally,
A heart that just can't be fixed?
And here i thought it was just the same,
But with my vision blurred....
And really all im asking,
Is the feeling of a hand on mine,
When the child is lost,
And can't seem to find his way.

Restlessly laying on a bed.
A bed of thorns,
Rose bushes that can never bloom.
Fertilized by blood.
Staring into space,
I knew where i was.

And im sitting down,
It was explained like this:
Its like a paper torn in two,
Blown to different corners of the world.
Only time to find one.
And your keys in the ignition,
You want to escape,
But your foot is on the pedal.
Where is this car going?

Sitting at a train station,
Benches made of pure steel,
My eyes are on the clock,
All im asking is for a hand on mine,
The child is lost,
And can't seem to find his way.
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