I remember when I
was six years old
and my grandma died,
I asked my mum where she went
and she just said the sky.
That night she came and sat with me,
on my small blue bed,
she pointed out the window,
to the stars then she said,
Grandma is resting up in the sky,
everyone will see her now
all through each night.
Now i'm much older,
and you rest in your bed.
You say you've chosen where your going
and that you don't have much time left.
The stars have taken you,
in the cold nightmare embrace.
They hold you too the heartless bosom,
and rob you from your wake.
So now everytime I see them,
I think only of you.
Your star is somewhere,
and when I see it,
I'll know it's you.
The drunken haze of the lost man
No new stars.
Just old.
Filled with lies,
drained of hope.
Poisoned nightmares,
memories gone.
Anger rising,
all is lost.
Called them up,
no new ones appeared.
She just died,
and that's it.
Drink is good.
Helps me sleep.
My mum has gone,
so I need help.
I hate all of them,
they personify the lie.
My pain will be over.
Once they leave the sky.
I'll get rid of the drink,
and ease the pain away,
I will have revenge on the stars,
one day.
Oh how I hate the stars
Oh how I hate the stars.
How they mock me in the night.
How they dance with the moon,
and cast a pitiful light.
Oh how I hate the twinkle,
the twinkle that they own,
I hate the way they give romantics,
the feeling that they're not alone.
The planets that relied on them,
the stars that I now see,
they can take them all back,
as they mean nothing to me.
Oh how I hate the stars,
such small pitiful things,
They ruin all the comfort,
that the darkness brings.
Spoiler
Any help what so ever will be muchly appreciated.
