Bayonettes And Bedsheets

Tracing your words with my fingertips
Terribly awake in these small dark lonely sacred hours
That blinding L.C.D. reminding me constantly
With every minute I stare pass
Trying to remember a home that I don't (not really)
This tape rolls on and the names of these songs escape me
I'll never know why they remind me of you
Everything reminds me of you
Tears only roll with the music
Hands soaked with saline don't do much for this headache
Wish I could find the words to say
As this of letters and fanzines helps pass the time away
Why do I waste this time
As glass in my eyes
Works its way to the
Back of my neck
I'll find solace
Scratching the parchment with this pen