I can't stand this tension. I'm pulling out my hair. I sweat blood, day and night for you. You know this can't be fair. . Tearing at my very soul. Wounding me with words.
If only I'd tried a little harder. To reach this goal. To reach your soul. If only we'd been a little closer. If only we'd pulled together. I'll try to leave behind.
In the corner of a bar a fat man sweats with a fistful of Dirty Dollars. Well he pushed so far when he tried to bet like Newman in the Hustler. . There's a baby blonde with cool blue eyes she wants to be Monroe.
I try to paint pictures drawn from my world. A song is my canvas, brush strokes are words. But do i portray love, that is just my ideal. Like sculptures of stone that can never be real.