Track one:
BURN YOUR COMPLIMENTS, THEY'RE FULL OF BULLSHIT.
Copyright © 2005, Pincey Park.
You really kind of left me numb,
I cut myself to feel something again.
Your initials crossed out,
engraved in my arm.
Might as well be my fucking heart.
I hate to compliment you some more,
but you're fucking insane, you're insane.
INSANE.
You make it sharper.
My hair is in my lovesick eyes,
and if you're not in here too.
I'm just...
Well, it's a good enough reason
and it's good enought to scream at you.
I hate...(incoherent screaming lol)
I hate to compliment you some more.
I wish it were arson.
Track two:
YOU TASTE LIKE RAZORBLADES
Copyright © 2005, Pincey Park
Blow-up dolls with puncture wounds,
everywhere the blood is strewn.
Plastic dolls with twisted spines,
Razorblades make nice designs.
Ragdolls torn from limb to limb,
mass descruction,
all 'cause of him.
I guess I like the way
your tongue cut into me.
Like sharp words
You spiked your mouth,
you cut my lips.
I liked you, so FUCK YOU.
I hate you, so FUCK YOU.
I liked you, so FUCK YOU.
I hate you, so FUCK YOU.
Track three:
SWEET REVENGE AND MURDER FINES
Copyright © 2005, Pincey Park.
But I'll leave you,
Because of how you said it,
Because of what you said to me,
Because you told the truth,
Standing here,
Hugging you,
With my arms wrapped around no one.
This is what they call,
A still life tragedy,
So this is a tragedy,
And it's dull and full of truth.
Because I laughed as you fell,
Because I just stared as you bled out,
Because I just loved the sight of you,
The way you loved to see me,
Screwed,
Just standing here,
Holding you,
Not close enough to care.
This is what they call,
A still life tragedy,
So this is a tragedy,
And it's dull and full of truth.
You dont
(INTOXICATE)
Matter anymore
(INTOXICATE ME)
And I've
(INTOXICATE)
Put you
(INTOXICATE ME)
Out of my mind.
(Tragically underground.)
Copyright © 2005, Pincey Park
I LOVE YOU A LITTLE
A silent tear,
The sound rebounds around,
Me and echoes,
Well I can’t take it anymore.
And you can laugh,
Pretend you didn’t hear,
My quiet tear.
I think of all the times,
Laughed and cried,
And every tear you forced to dry,
Locked in a stall,
Small and trapped with,
Bathroom floor reflections,
And me, I still look the same.
The searing burn,
It’s taste between my tear torn lips,
Too young to love,
Too old for true friends,
Day has come to,
Scratch a heart in the wall,
Your number etched,
In my locker and,
Our knuckles tattooed white,
Clenched fist against mine,
I love you.
Copyright © 2005, Pincey Park
MORE TO COME.
heehehe.
