When I look up to the stars I know you’re there

Sometimes stars fall to earth and I’ll be waiting here

You’re gone and there’s no way to ask why

There’s no way to know what it all meant

You left us one last riddle with no clues at all

Just broken pieces of you fallen all around us

Asking us to be shattered with you too

I cried, I cried, I cried

and I’m crying still

When I look up to the stars 

I know you’re there and I’m here, 

I’m here

I don’t like the way you watch me

I’m a girl and you’re a guy

I wish you’d fuck off and die

You see me on the street, you know where I live

At my door, morning at 5

I told you to fuck off and die

The world is a dangerous place

that I truly believe

From the concrete plains down to the sea

The world is a dangerous place

you cannot deceive

It has such a grip that I can't breathe

I don't want my eyes to watch you

Like I can only see out from the inside

I want you to fuck off and die

I am on the outside

Sometimes looking in

Sometimes looking away feigning disinterest

Only to look back in

I am on the outside

I want to be forever young

Not to grow a day older

Not to live in apathy

I want to walk that fine line over fire

I am fighting for air, fighting for breath

The boredom is my water

Falling over me, pushing me down, drowning me

I, with my bare hands, want to break the surface

I want to rip life apart at the seams

I am on the outside

Sometimes I look in

Not really recognizing what I am seeing

I am a voyeur in my own life

I am on the outside

When Vincent Van Gogh lost his ear

Where were you?

Were you someplace near?

Nearer to yourself

           than you could nearly be near

Nearer to yourself

           than you ever have been

Nearer to yourself

           than is really safe

Oh Clasina, the room is haunted with ghosts

The easel sits empty

           In the corner, canvas blank

                     and dried out paints

                     and I can't hear a thing

Where were you?

           when Vincent Van Gogh lost his ear

It's when you know what you really do

That's when you begin to despise it

It's when you always lie

That's when they all know the truth

It's when you say those things you say

That's when you begin to deny it

It's when you never try

That's when it starts to come in waves

Then when you cry

The blue of your eyes drains away

You're the girl with the colorless eyes

The girl with the colorless eyes

The girl looking out from the inside

It's when you know that it's all over

That's when you begin to reprise it

It when you sometimes die

That's when you wish they were more covert

I knelt down to touch your boots

I knelt down to worship your boots

But all you could do is walk away

With skin as white as porcelain

You are not made of that

like some cheap dime store figurine

Ready to shatter at a moments notice

Dropped from a high shelf and

gravity takes over

You said I am not made to be worshiped

I am made to be fucked

I could hear the street calling your name

though I did not know it at the time

I read you like reading a book on the subway

flying beneath the city

and then coming up into daylight

Words pulsing rhythmically

full of mystery and plot twists

Like a dagger in the back of the brain

and the heart

Why does that dark shadow follow?

Everywhere you go?

Why do you torture yourself?

Torture me?

It's always one part pleasure and one part pain

Someday it feels like we're going insane

Someday. ashes to ashes dust to dust Nothing remain.

Is it all in vain?

So troubled

Tangled in your own thoughts

Dragged under

Drowning in sorrow

Dark shadow follows

Is everything we do

Is it all in vain?

A murder of crows inside of my brain

I will not fall into that ash black hole

That darkest thing inside of me

is just a murder of crows

I can not be a scarecrow

and frighten them from inside of me

Someone that is alive can not be a scarecrow

Crows are only afraid of things that are dead

That goes for my crows and your crows too

Poe's "Raven" was really in his brain, saying

nevermore

and for some they can not ignore that word

Nevermore, nevermore quoth the raven chattering in their ear

When Kurt Cobain blew a hole in his head he was

only trying to murder his murder of crows

For some that's the way out

Crows are afraid of the dead

and once you die they'll leave you alone

My crows, I know what they are

and I am not afraid of them anymore

I will not be beaten by their flapping wings

I will never listen to that word, nevermore

I know that they are crows and a murder is

only two or more