I thought I knew myself, the prison in which I stored my being,
the days I couldn't stop seeing. all those things that don't go away
they cry from inside, wanting to come out and say good bye, but
I hold on to my memories, they are the being of my set mind.closed,
closed for the month of may, when will be my day, when will I be blinded
by the truth of my own convictions. do I ever stop and look at wrong when
I already know its not right, can you help this and never tell me a lie.
Never leave me in the night, because I'd sooner be dead than to have to see
my wings cut off in mid-flight, soaring above the clouds only to drop down and
cease to exist among your twisted asphyxiating melodramatics.Id much rather die
than live a life of lies and drama that only allows me to prevail in failure.

three things...they say:
one-keep your friends close and your enemies closer.
two-love is all you need.
three-if you are truly a friend you wont give a shit.
three different people three completly different feelings...