(White/Armstrong)
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Another night alone on a dark road somewhere far away
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from my home. The summer's on my mind, so far behind.
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Face in a sink reflects these caffienated insides.
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It's life scenarios you think of while you're alone,
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and on my own. Like if my parents paid for everything
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I own I could be somewhere in a classroom taking notes
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of things that I already know (or think I do). What
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doesn't kill you makes you grow. This nine to five
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turns into twenty-four hours. It seems that escape
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from this cold, dark prison is a dream. My priorities
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are forgotten, stuck in a cycle on your knees. I
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deliver in spite to my friends and my enemies. Some
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days I stay and lie awake in bed just to breathe my
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quickened heartbeat. I hear noises overhead, but this
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face isn't strong enough to sleep. I have a dream
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that I can sleep on my own. These days my pale
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reflection can't pretend that this is all I have to
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offer. I hear noises overhead but this throat isn't
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strong enough to scream, or so it seems. Now I scream
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on my own. This cup off coffee burning my insides,
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and sip after sip I grow and come to realize that this
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is moving on.
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What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Grow
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| Sewing With Nancie (The Reason) |
