Tekster: Channel 3. CH3. Best Of Intentions.

I lie awake with my fists like rocks of hate
One midnight call kills the night like an earthquake
I've heard of animals that mate for life
Sad cries of widowed birds falling through the sky

I squeeze this book like I want to break its spine
I've read this paragraph six or seven times
I feel the weight of the air upon my skin
Give me some reason for the world we've been dropped in

I hear the loud machine, it won't shut off
We learn to live with it, regardless of the cost

I guess the best of intentions got a funny way of getting lost

Some days I can barely face it
Some days I can't hardly wait
She sums it up like Rod Sterling
I'm all apologies and hate