Baby, we're royalty.

the two of us
(all used) all used and beaten up
watching fate, as it flows
down the path, we have chose

you and me
we're in this together now
none of them can stop us now
we will make it through somehow
you and me
if the world should break in two
until the very end of me
until the very end of you

awake to the sound
as they peel apart the skin
they pick and they pull
trying to get their fingers in
well they've got to kill what we've found
well they've got to hate what they fear
well they've got to make it go away
well they've got to make it disappear

the farther i fall i'm beside you
as lost as i get i will find you
the deeper the wound i'm inside you
forever and ever i'm a part of


you and me
we're in this together now
none of them can stop us now
we will make it through somehow
you and me
even after everything
you're the queen and i'm the king
nothing else means anything

Going down down down...All the way up to the sky.

All thats there is fire!fire!fire!

...I forgot what its like to be the wind.

I'll try to sing the lamentable.

But it all ends up the same.

What am i ashamed of? i did nothing wrong. per-se.

I did it. and i heard a distant voice i thought about every now and again. around here-Its forbidden. an unimaginable sin. But i heard it. at my own leisure. And i don't think it was desperation- That is zero. and in fact- as thought i may not be at the top, i am certainly not at the bottom.

I want to spend time with Jay. Brother. Big Brother. the protection, the safety, the chrildren, the supression the selflessness of life. I want jay. I want Edie.

I want things to be alright. smiling kind of hurts. yeah.

Strong string strong, sing it sistah!

A true mans character is shown by his inate sence of clousure in the discision to simply make a mental crash landing in the spontaneous even of spending time with a sweetheart to love her simply in a field of violets.

Its growing up. But its spontanious uncomformity that delves into the wild heart- heaving and jerking inside the body. But sadly enough romantisism is dead. and my laments for it shadow the castings of every page unwirtten in my wake.

But i shall remember the sunflowers. how how its creation proved beauty lie in the earth bound by its seeds that shine out thoes who think they are more attractive then the sunflower.