Texty: Boink. Welcome To Our Show. Parable Of The Talents.

A thousand words that I want to say,
Dance upon my lips but never seem to take a shape.
And as they choke for air and a place to go,
Everyone in front of me is drowning all alone.
The scream...

And time passed on broken confidence,
Second glances show you it's not making any sense at all.
You're falling down once again.
Standing with your heart in hand, a black and bloody mess,
You scream...

Don't take my home, I'm not sure I want to go.
But hearts of stone are cold and dark and prone to sink,
And I was thinking way too slow.

How profound

Don't take what I say the wrong way.
It's so simple it's hard.
Though you kid what you get, you're still afraid to admit,
You're feeling empty and don't know who you are.
Can you feel it?

And one more thing I'll offer you,
A nursing back from what went wrong, a ghost in mirror in the song.
Your eyes are shut so listen up,
Open-ended opportunity is offered up before you scream...

Someone take me home, I'll proclaim what I didn't know.
I'll get it right, or drip a drop for my relief,
From gnashing teeth and ash from bone