Daydreamer - 6/30/05

Stuck somewhere between, This reality and a dream. Everything I shall hold, Turns to shit, not gold. Caught in the storm's eye, The calm is my only high. Trying to break the mold, And do not as I am told. Just wanting to be unique, Is a crutch for the meek, Who forever live in rue, For not living like you. While begging on my knees, I will eventually cease. And angels will not show, To my funeral in the snow. On a ground so immaculate, Forever soiled of my shit. No one else here to grieve, Or miss me after I leave. Everyone was really lying, Heaven wasn't worth dying. As I incinerate in hell, I'll just think to myself, I was too stupid to see, Jesus has never loved me.