شنگرفی

she seems dressed in all the rings
of past fatalities
so fragile, yet so devious
she continues to see
climatic hands that press her temples and my chest
enter the night that she came home... forever

she is everything and more...
the solemn hypnotic
my dahlia, bathed in possession, she is home to me
i get nervous, perverse, when i see her it's worse
but the stress is astounding
it's now or never, she's coming home... forever

oh... she's the only one that makes me sad

hard to say what caught my attention
fixed and crazy... aphid attraction
carved my name in my face to recognize
such a pheromone cult to terrorize

i'm a slave and i am a master
no restraints and unchecked collectors
i exist through my needs to self–oblige
she is something in me that i despise

i won't let this build up inside of me!

she isn't real, i can't make her real

she seemed dressed in all of me,
stretched across my shame
all the torment and the pain
leaked through and covered me
i'd do anything to have her to myself,
just to have her for myself
now i don't know what to do,
i don't know what to do when she makes me sad

she is everything to me
the unrequited dream,
the song that no one sings,
the unattainable
she's a myth that i have to believe in
all i need to make it real is one more reason
i don't know what to do
i don't know what to do when she makes me sad

but i won't let this build up inside of me
a catch in my throat,
choke, torn into pieces,
i won't, no, i don't want to be this
but i won't let this build up inside of me

she isn't real, i can't make her real