Tuesday, December 9, 2008

False Innuendo

Your two cents rust me right through
Your sentences have turned me on
I've got mountains raised along my limbs
My hands are shaking, so are my arms

I wish you'd look at me without a lens cap
And see the things I wish to convey
You've misunderstood love so many times
I don't know how to get up again

And the jubilee of imperfection
Is in a self titled manner
I will never be like them
Not even if it's what I wanted

I strummed a melody on your vocal chords
I just wanted some type of progression
But the notes went sour
My legs are weak
I'm too unstable to support my heart
Too unstable to let myself be

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