Sy Borg

Awaken and I feel sick
Like butterflies dying in my stomach
Now I cannot sleep
The visions creep behind my stare
Giving me the reality
Of dying in a nightmare
Don't say that it doesn't mean anything
Don't say you can't die in your dreams
I'm running through a familiar hall
The nameless overwhelming
They keep pushing me they're pulling me apart
What I think what I feel what I say
Well it doesn't seem to make a difference to anyone but me
You can't imagine what I see when I dream
It's a wonder that I have not been locked away
I don't know why I care


This Could Be Love

ive got a book of matches
ive got a can of kerosene
ive got some bad ideas, involving you and me
i dont blame you for walking away
i touch myself at thoughts of flames
i shat the bead and layed there in it
thinking of you, wide awake for days
wide awake for days
and i found you tounge tied
my twisted little brain
you couldnt crack a smile
i didnt catch your name
i dont blame you for walking away
id do the same if i saw me
i swear its not contagious
four short steps we can erase this

step one, slit my throat
step two, play in my blood
step three, cover me in dirty sheets and run laughing
out of the house
step four, stop at lake michigan and wrinse your crimson hands

you took me hostage and made your demands
i couldnt meet them so you cut off my fingers
one by one
one by one
im like a broken record
ive got a needle scratching me
it injects the poison of alchohol IV
i dont blame you for walking away
id do the same if i saw me
i swear its not contagious
i swear to god its not contagious

step one, slit my throat
step two, play in my blood
step three, cover me in dirty sheets and run laughing
out of the house
step four, stop at Berkley Marina and wrinse your crimson hands

you took me hostage and made your demands
i couldnt meet them so you cut off my fingers
one by one

this could be love
(love for fire)
this could be love
(love for fire)
this could be love
for fire, for ever more

step one, slit my throat
step two, play in my blood
step three, cover me in dirty sheets and run laughing
out of the house
step four, stop off at pittsburg peir and wrinse your crimson hands

you took me hostage and made your demands
i couldnt meet them so you cut off my fingers
one by one
one by one

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