2003-01-17 - 8:17 p.m.
Wrong
Into the depths I trod
aghast at all the holes
I've yet to find
A gift upon your threat
The cleanliness of loss
helps you unwind
All intentions banished
as well as any
noble words or deeds
Who here is victimized
the one who now retracts
or he who bleeds? I could've held my tact
with the weight of silent fluff
So tell me that I'm wrong
I suppose I don't hear that enough Across your changing whims
on a block of iced
moods slides your scale
Imbalanced, my hands shake
delivering the blood
that leaves you pale
We pull out all slung blades
some an accident
some clearly thrown
As your forgiveness fades
so easily the one
feared truth is known
What's ours is now yours I could've found my lack
of persistance more secure (What's ours is now yours)
So tell me that I'm wrong
and in solitude you'll remain pure I could've lost all track (I could've not looked back)
and unleashed a carnal fit
So tell me that I'm wrong
and maybe one day we'll believe it I could take this attack
and later hold my arms open
and then say that I was wrong (I hear that enough)
and watch this happen again I might just sit and crack
amongst your strong, unerring ways
So say this isn't wrong
and that "I love you" is just a phrase I could have not looked back. . .
[before] [after]
| 
