Drive nine inch nails into my skin, past my eyes,the thoughts begin. Call this life, will I argue or just deny? This life is a joke if you ask me, people on street corners needing places to sleep. Do you care, or just push them aside and join up in this corpocracy? If it made sense to everyone, it'd make no sense to me. Is this ment to, or could I dream of your dreams, would they make sense to me? Watch everything pass you bye, inside can't you hear the screams as time dies?
