By David Sharp
I'm pretty sure the person this is dedicated to can easily recognize it.
Standing there, looking so smug,
You think it's all figured out but with just one tug,
it comes crashing down.
You think it's me, you think I'm mean,
You think it's I that orchestrates this scene,
But it's not me.
I didn't make it, I didn't start it,
I didn't break it from what it was before.
That was all you.
And now you fall, increase in speed,
and soon you'll crash from your own misdeed.
So don't blame me.
I won't take it, and I don't make it, and when you shake it... it always falls on me.. but not today.
So now you're mad, it makes me sad,
I'd rather change it back to make us glad...
It's not up to me.
You slit your wrists, the cliff it calls,
And you expect me to catch your blood as it falls.
It stains my face.
Well I don't want it, and I don't need it, and I won't take it as you dig yourself a hole.. and you bury me.
Just like a tree, against the wind,
You stand your ground and you wont relent,
Until you break.
You're spread so thin, the state you're in,
It won't surprise me if you end up in a garbage bin.
Before too long.
And I can't help it, cause I don't do it, and I say screw it if you think I'm gonna be your net... when you jump.
Why don't you just close you're eyes, and see if I'm there waiting when you fall.