Two Violins, Wich Are Meant To Represent The Forest

Nowhere you'd rather be than
fifteen blocks away. Tonight
you're embracing it tomorrow who's to say. Deem love
unconditional but the real
world don't work that way.
When we examine it we don't
know what to say. She tells
her roommates not to take
your calls. The severed heads
line the bed their names all
burnt in the wall. It's just
not cool to act like it's a
big deal. She tells her
roommates not to take your call, you hear her telling
them from the hall. Sloppy
kids get drunk and drive
their cars like big wheels
its no big deal. We create
images to make our lives seem
pretty. We stumble through
our rooms in search of a life
worth living. But what good
does image do when we're tired and unforgiving? The
books you've read next to
your bed, the words all roll
in your mouth. Even if you
could say just what you meant
do you think you could work
it out? She tells her
roommates not to take your
call, you hear her telling
them from the hall. You hang up slow scared as hell, she's
not kidding this is real.
Nowhere you'd rather be than
tied to a line to her.
Tonight you'll try again as
for tomorrow you're not sure.