Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Blood on the ground.

I recently wrote out the longest rant about so many things. Getting it all out did make me feel better, but there's no need in holding onto it. And there's definitely no need in dumping it on you.

Just as I was typing the last sentence of said rant, this song popped into my head.

It is my new philosophy.




I don't want to talk to you anymore.
I'm afraid of what I might say.
I bite my tongue every time you come around,
cause blood in my mouth beats blood on the ground.

Hand over my heart; I swear I've tried everything I could within all my power.
Two weeks and one hour I slaved, and now I've got nothing to show.
Oh, if only you'd grow taller than a brick wall.

From now on, I'm gonna start holding my breath when you come around
and you flex that fake grin, cause something inside me has said more than twice
that breathing less air beats breathing you in!

I don't want to talk to you anymore.
I'm afraid of what I might say.
I bite my tongue every time you come around,
cause blood in my mouth beats blood on the ground.

Hand over my mouth; I'm earning the right to my silence.
In quiet, discerning between ego and timing.
Good judgment is once again proving to me
that it's still worth its weight in gold.

From now on, I'm gonna be so much more wary when you start to speak
and my warm blood starts to boil,
that seeing you is like pulling teeth
and hearing your voice is like chewing tin foil. 

I don't want to talk to you anymore.
I'm afraid of what I might say.
I bite my tongue every time you come around,
cause blood in my mouth beats blood on the ground.

High fives to better judgment. 
By saying less today, I will gain more.
Low twos to you my fickle friend...
You've brought the art of silent war.

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