turn around.

heaven in crying
this good years droping like flys.
my good years wasted.
i miss him while im sleeping.
everything seems unreal at the time.
the last two weeks pasted me in a flash.
the last two weeks a mistery to me.
waiting, for the good years to pass.
im all but dead.
iv been watching him in my dream, picking up his hat from the ground.
then hes gorn. all this love i once felt for him burns fresh.
i have no strenth to pull this one back.
waiting for this shit years to pass.
my good years all wasted, blinded good with bad.
where the fuck am i. who the fuck am i.
all these lies. all these problem people, trying to make a difference
trying to get in.
trying to awake this world from its silent sleep.
this sleep of destrustion.
i dont know what i am doing here.
we are all blinded to our world, throwing up the bad so all we are left with is this annerexic world of good.
help us all swollow our pride and open our eyes.
where we see these good yars are fucked, we have ruined our life.
your hands sink deep into the sand, touch the core, feel the truth.
wake up, and turn around.
like lions do, laying peacefuly in the grass. like lions do we pounch on anyone weaker then our selfs.
now walk down here and see our world, you can try and break the train but our traders are already ruleing our life. like lions we pick on our pray.
tear them apart, until there is nothing.
and their good years are gorn.