Tell me about the purple sea stars and cerulean moonbeams overcast, but I can see that you do not wish to play silly games anymore. I cannot suppress my sadness for your forgotten childhood – I am still a child, and yet you, I do not know you anymore.
I felt nothing.
She once loved a young man, but the young man didn't love the woman as much as she loved him --
He left the woman to die alone...
But the woman was not alone, she had a child growing inside of her and soon the woman realized that she was no longer a woman but a mother --
She was not happy at all.
The child continued to grow, but he didn't want to be born...and his mother wasn't sure she wanted him born either.
I can make out shadow of doubts chasing after you, chasing after me.
When are you going to stop playing this charade of moving monkeys along in rows?
I love it when you lie to me.
I want to be a blur –               indistinguishable in the distance –
All I want to do is run away from this place, run away from this reality.
I cannot take this shit anymore. I cannot take this shit anymore.
Fuck this place. Fuck this place.
B'coz all I want to do is run away. There seems to be order in your disorder, but I cannot comprehend what you're trying to tell me.
Welcome Bitterness, take heed Saturn storms. Make wildfires in seaweed, hold the Mighty conch above your head, capture the Spirit of the sea.
Make my heart bleed, you know how my heart bleeds.
Can you hear the sea maiden singing? It's like the tinkling of dew drops on the end of lashes.
Welcome Melancholy, take heed Jupiter whirlwinds. Make clouds in the morning light, hold roaring cries of a hermit in your palm.
You remind me of all the things, of all the things – it kills me to be close to you.
I scream, I scream and I stumble. Let my voice choke between the dying embers.
I scream, I scream and I stumble. Hear my voice choke between the last of the dying embers.
My son, you're not ready to see the ills of society nor this cling and clatter of obscurity.
My son you're not ready to taste the blood of men nor hear the clashing of different worlds.
I know my son, but I'm not ready yet to let go...