Our Junk, inside factory America.
The wind tears like glass, Slowly reconstructing into different shapes before your eyes and in time it will fill the floor.
Yet another thing I will never see.
I am beginning to view my live as someone would view a broken set of wings, unable to support anything.
Waiting, forever, for an answer on this handheld projection of real life in response to my never-ending call
For what?
Truth?
I know it; at least I know the truth I believe.
Help?
Who will help me when no one can help themself?
Fear?
Fear of what?
Fear ill never shut my mouth, so I will
Ill Shut my mouth and chew more sugar as to fit with a grouping of people to whom I serve.
I am after all everything that we all are
Am I you?
The wind tears like glass, Slowly reconstructing into different shapes before your eyes and in time it will fill the floor.
Yet another thing I will never see.
I am beginning to view my live as someone would view a broken set of wings, unable to support anything.
Waiting, forever, for an answer on this handheld projection of real life in response to my never-ending call
For what?
Truth?
I know it; at least I know the truth I believe.
Help?
Who will help me when no one can help themself?
Fear?
Fear of what?
Fear ill never shut my mouth, so I will
Ill Shut my mouth and chew more sugar as to fit with a grouping of people to whom I serve.
I am after all everything that we all are
Am I you?
supernaught:
Thanks, but if I knew how to play a guitar the way I play with my paintball gun, and was on stage playing for a few thousand people, then that'd make me a rockstar.
lillithvain:
I am me. And, how are you? 
