Monday, June 10, 2013

quiet noise

How come when it's quiet all my thoughts cry out?
I know I'm talking, but I don’t know what about.
Maybe if I'm silent I can hear my voice?
But no, it's lost again, in my head with all the noise.

A chance to live again, what would you choose?
No thanks, the offer's nice, but I think I must refuse.
I think if I did I'd just make more mistakes,
And I think my last few are just more than I can take.

You say this is the end, and I don’t disagree.
The only one that minds is a piece of the old me.
But I don’t care what that piece thinks, because--
'Cause for the life of me, I can't remember who I was.

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