Days change, they're getting longer. passing so much faster.
reminding me of what i've done. i'm hearing whispers. seeing
pictures of what could have, should have, never been. places we
should never go, we swore we'd never go again. 'this is where
we kill for love,' it's what we have to say. this is where i
killed for love just to get away. i lie to anyone who'll listen,
but i know i'm only killing for myself. and i'll try to convince
myself, but maybe i should just learn to wear it well. i try to
remember that i don't want to forget. these aren't memories...just
long, bad, dreams. the worst kind of nightmare, and i made it for
myself. just a stupid kid desperate to love...and he becomes a
killer. but i am not a killer. and so this time, there won't be
a next time. so good at taking everything, i've got to give it back.
this time, i am ready. i am waiting.