Thnks Fr Th Fsh.

im slip-slip-slipping
on the ice on your hips
theres no friction between us
but i thought you would have figured that out by now
i gave you too much credit
"never bite the hand that feeds you or you starve tonight"
you carved on the backs of your hands, the mirrors, the walls
so determind to forget their lies, you strain to remember your own
truths
you keep a constant tally of all the times youve fucked up
but its funny how you only bruise your wrists
coz youre too chickenshit to take it up a notch
i was drawn in by the way you hang your head at the sight of me
im more than a failure because you want me this way
well guess what?
im not afraid of losing you like i was once upon a time
ill put you up on the bandwagon with mothballs and cliche
see you off into the distance

i love how you always fuck with my head

stop kissing my bones. we both know that all you want to do is jump them.

trace me some battle scars...

is this love or is this war?
take a shot in the dark and call my bluff
i got the benefit of the doubt
and smoke and mirrors up my sleeve
but who cares? (my catchphrase of the week)
every goddamn conversation tonight is forced through gritted teeth
you want to make it all right
like usual
go spin your web of sugar coated excuses
youre hoping to catch me at my lowest
but put up a fight coz this city aint about to let me go
im better off ted
and when i forget myself again and again
to the tune of another hot wired head
it brings me back to my feet
so you cant have it your way
but listen hard to the wind as it whistles through the alleyways
it calls your name
(love isnt love without war)

to whom this may concern...

my head or my hearts gonna explode
mind over (you dont) matter
excluding souls like kids in the playground
but schools out for summer
lets go down to the beach and put all our problems in the bottles
watch them float at sea to forget the fights between us
(there's something therapeutic about salty air...)
sometimes i just wanna push you off a bridge and watch you sink
but most of the time i just want to be wrapped up in your arms again
insecure little children never grow up
we are The Lost Boys
no matter how much i hate to admit it but i needed you since day one
i dont deserve you in my life
you are too good for me
please,
i love you.
broken smiles and pixiedust
maybe one day ill meet you in neverland
"two stars to the right and straight on till mornin'!"

"Take a hike, buddy- and by that i dont mean hitchhiking."

im the narrator in the story of my life
but you have the starring role
i hope you get blinded by red carpet lights
when im watching you on tv (acceptance speech blues, baby)
i hope the words are like glass shards in your mouth
because every note from your lips
is a knife to my wrist
the day you won over the crowd is marked
on my calender with a big black cross
this is not a school girl crush-
just a story from a Kid that wants to warn you-
this Story isnt for the faint at heart
these America's Suitehearts and
Prima Donnas Of The Gutters and
Front Cover Honeys arent role models for your children
so lets start a new fad
of getting back at those who stole your well deserved limelight

Blue Murder

let me shoot a bullet through a flock of crows

im sorry im a little "scatter-brained",

but what pieces you can find will be your host for this evening
(gotta rock and) roll with the punches
every hit aimed where it hurts
coz you were asking for it and i aim to please
so i ask you to fill out this feedback sheet
give me your hand me down dreams/second hand wishes
and we will call it a night
stage mums give me back my life
(grown ups who turned 13)
im going the wrong way
down a one way street
but i might just like it
(where ever i end up)

Bright lights and old fights

tie your worries to a bunch of balloons
and see how they stay grounded
im floating on heavy nostalgia clouds
at a minute to midnight
shooting star (or a crashing satellite)
close your eyes and make another death wish
“i wanna live on the dark side of your doormat”
a tiny Cleopatra on imperial litter
my clothes spend more time on the floor than on my body
belt buckles hitting wood floors
(keep) ringing on my fingers (and none in my ears)
and its flinging my head like a ball in another Wimbledon final
i put the skeletons of the past next to the monsters under my bed
Because the wardobe’s ready to burst
and i throw bullets off piers
so i can’t put them in sympathy guns
this is just another love story gone wrong
another romantic comedy turned horrific nightmare
i wouldnt wish me(this) on my worst enemy
looks like Little Miss Reliable finally grew up
to be something more than words on a page