Pieces - 40 Grit

The bigger they are, the harder they fall

Where are you now in this mess you have made?

I’m leaving you here, to fend for your own

I cannot help I am already gone

Pieces of dreams cannot kill the touch only the mind

These little pieces of things I’ve grown to hate so much

Delivered and burned, you see how it works

I could explain, but I’d feel like a jerk

I close my eyes and feed your pain

Helpless ritual, ritual habits sustained

Pieces of dreams cannot kill the touch only the mind

These little pieces of dreams I’ve grown to hate so much

What about the de-compassion

That is in the movement on the wheels that we ride?

Kill your life!

Can I believe that I need someone, to make me feel like I am special?

To lie beneath a snail with no one, and feel like a million voices

With a poor excuse I’m guilty.

With the blood on my hands you’ll see

Hide in the ruins that you’ve ruined, when you couldn’t see…

Running lost intertwined with a weak compromise

Lacking a soul with the will to survive