there is nothing new about this tale
kissing away this tearful trail
that slides down my face
searching for some solace.

i'm never cheap, i'll grieve alone
my blood is hot, i won't turn to stone
i'll love like i was taught
and never forget the demons that sliced
through this facade and wanted to be fought

diamonds will shine where tears now reside
biting back with all the utmost pride
i'll live and i'll love you
no matter what hell i'm put through.

I thought things got easier with time?

Kill the lover.

You can't take this blame,
it shivers off you just the same...
as the wine down your spine,
the same intoxication that made you mine.

The kiss that ran down my neck,
clutched my throat piercing this flesh,
the vapour that circled this mesh,
our bodies hot and glued together,
whisperings in the heat of loving forever.

The pain and the pleasure,
wrapped us in some sort of secret forbidden treasure,
deep inside with promises you could never hold,
one hand around my mouth, suffocating me, watching me turn cold.

Did you mean to kill the lover?
Love that was always under cover,
did you mean to kill your lover?

Kissing with eyes open was always rare,
making love with absolute care,
this was never a murder scene,
almost definitely something more serene.

However you penetrated what you could,
maybe more than what you possibly should,
you abandoned what you knew true,
how could one possibly still love you?

When you feel your heart grow poor,
and you feel your head smashing into the floor,
with alcohol surrounding your being,
I hope in some way; it's freeing.

meant to be alone

there it was on this wall,
all the signs about your willingness to fall,
that some people are born to be alone,
to have their hearts turn to stone.

though i tried to alter your furnace
with nothing but earnest,
you dug into me like the splinter,
ran cold like the ice in the winter
when we first fell in love.

i shouldve noticed the decadence,
shoud've embraced any sense,
too good to be true,
love stories don't end with a man like you.

so now burnt twice, and paying this awful price,
'i wrote this for you' would be a lie,
as endless days of seeing into your eye
could only die,
i now realise the heartbroken truth of the matter,
that for too long this love i could only flatter,
but it's too late for me, maybe too late even for you;
some people are meant to be alone
darling, that's why you packed your songs and flew,
but don't worry, i will give you this; i still miss you