kid playing with the world

life in realtime is an slow space moving
things we hate run the slow space
you seems to be waiting
as the time go by and never reach the end

I was a kid once with the world between my hands
excited about it..
cannot remember who gave it to me
but it did, and told me to do something with it

As I held the world it became hurting
made my hands bleed
I wanted to break it,squeeze it
everytime

I couldnt find any fun about it
so I gave it to someone else
not told to do something with it
but to intended to succeded living with it

to survive in the slow space moving
real lifetime torturing of every day

the scratcher

some one its been scratching me
in a place no one knows about
I was staring at the stars
then It just happened
I fell asleep, between that cloud and the other

Alone as I thougth I was
just keep crying eyes closed
in silence,
while my soul were scratched deep
the edged sharpen side
stick in my ears somehow
and the sounds were driving me mad

But if my eyes are closed enough
I can still thinking this I been dreamin
was never true, never happen
and let it go


My pain is there
and my soul is leaving me
like we are unreal
but it scratches anyway
until it feels nothing
tomorrow they will love me
they will like me, they will know
I may be hurt

But tonigth,
it just scratches..

And I hate the moon
I blame the stars
and that cloud and the other

While far away from here
people fall in love
and make promisses
looking at the very same moon.

War Waste

Im the disease, you my cure
Im the mod, you turn my dust into clean
Im madness, you are my resting

I have seen death
Im a product or a waste from war
dont know yet
Im a product from a life irony
Yet, I have not surrender
Not really over, until Im finally quit
because I wanted to

Not really over until I finally
may decide I cant go on anymore
or there are no more places to go
no more advetures to run in
no more, no more

Yes, I am a waste discarded garbage from war
but, I was holding over my back
the punishment for the sins of many
manny faces hidden in the shadows
I was holding all over me
the scars from a devastation I couldnt started
but to battle to fix it

Not really over or gone
the deeper the bleed I born again
the more beaten, the more the desire to born harder

Cant stop surviving
Cant stop finding a way
unbreakable
Lasting

Somehow time ahead
my last breath I know will taked by angels
or demons if not lucky enough
Then Ill settle and surrender in peace
Knowing war cannot take me away
away from home