My shame is cold like a grave, but my lust is hot like an engine. Pistons that pump and a heart, that thumps to a beat, that I can't wrap my head around.
So I let my body fall into step, but then I have lost the rythem, and all I am left with is, .......is my regret.
Can you hear the sound? Ticking on I am ticking on. Automatic I am all the things I've done. Set to explode I am ticking on.
What on earth can atone for all the wrong I've done? From the depths, from the depths, I am crawling home again.
I've been thinking maybe, I can make this right. In fact I know that, I've got to make this right. I'm done ******** around with the guilt engine.
Ticking on I am ticking on. Automatic I am all the things I've done. Set to explode I am ticking on, like a bomb.
lilaaffe · Tue Aug 15, 2006 @ 04:44am · 0 Comments |