Pretty Birds Get Caught by Cats Too
Mary Jane Kelly
he's drinking alone again and man he's always thinking of a way to change...
man something's got to change...
it's truckin' on midnight and I sit right off sixth street drawing new lines to cross...
loneliness breaks complete silence as terror runs down his spine...
the fellings all to familiar, he has built more faith in the rope around his neck than he holds in her...
and the only reason he stands cold sweat upon that chair is to give her, to give you one last chance...
the flowers are dead and god, I'm slowly slipping...
a useless charm is broken and solitude soars...
when we have no longer to live, these slices wrists hurt less than this wounded heart...
this heart, its killing me...
and when life is not suffice, dying amends...
and he never be your partner because he will have killed himself by the time you come around(I will have killed myself)



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