I lie in bed, sick with regret, we've become what we're not, how to we stop? You lie next to me, eyes shining bright, I forgot what they do, they make everything right.
I lie my head on your chest, hoping you wont notice, the tears running down my face. Am I a disgrace? The words don't seem to make it, up into your eyes, you stop and you listen,
He wears all black, and watches you, decides what happens, when your time is through. His mask is polite, but a hardened one, his eyes so cold. If looks could bite. He walks his way,
I need some inspiration, which derives from more than pride, it needs some real feeling, and a sure sense of divide. Between me and the haters, the ones who watch you fall,
My mistress’ eyes are completely like the sun; Nothing is a red as her lips’ red; If summer is right, then her breasts are perfect; If hairs be wires, brown silk grow on her head;