Schizophrenia.com

Passing Afternoons

If the truth was hard to tell, well then you told your lies very well
The broken-ness of my heart could not portray all these memories
How lonely it is in town, when common men dare me to drown
-I’ve wallowed in the sea of stars, I’ve hidden my ruby scars
All those bitter pills providing much longed for love and apathy
In an empty moon, full of cherished times now lost to enmity
And every dead end leads to houses full of ghosts of shells
Of their former selves, that carry no resemblance of who they used to be

Just a passing afternoon, walking through the sheets of rain
Tied my laces and forgot all the faces of people who left a stain
their headlights beam in the night, I won’t ever stop dreaming of the light
Of a better place where the coast brings glory to its sandy shores
I was born scarred by a war–I became America’s harlot, its whore
Watching as the world was torn. In this new world I’ll be reborn
An echo of the sound of silence, an effigy of the land of the free
All the broken glass we’ve walked over for centuries
Are testaments to the strength of our secret histories.

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