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• 1993-08-06
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Female
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• Half-way between heaven and hell.
Member Since
• 2007-05-20
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• Professional Annoyer
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• Mrs. Matthew Thiessen... I wish...
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• I have mangaged to color outside of the lines of every single picture I've drawn. And, get this: IT'S NOT ON PURPOSE!!!
Anime Fan Since
• 5th Grade
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• Anything from Rumiko Takahashi, Most things by CLAMP, And a lot of Shonen Jump.
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• At the next Superbowl, me and my friend are going to take over the world by putting everyone we don't like in a box.
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• Drawing, Singing, Friend-Making, Song Writing, Story Writing, Being Obsessed With Matty T.
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• Drawing, Singing, Song Writing, Story Writing, Being Annoying
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myOtaku.com: evangaline angel
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Saturday, June 2, 2007
Sunday Morning Sleepers
I wrote this song a little while back, and I edited it today. It sounds a little emo, but it's a Christian song. I wanna make a band, so I wrote it for the people who I thought would be best it my band.
I hear you talking to my back,
about the life that I don't have,
a heart-ache, heart-break, and a laugh,
the scar has healed, I'll breath unscathed.
A broken wrist, the bone snapped clean,
is this the end for you and me?
I can't stay here, but I can't leave,
too many lies I've yet to weave.
(chorus)
A story of a long-past death,
broken dreams that catch your breath.
The Crucefix that's not alone,
a haunting note that holds too long.
breaking in my dreams I see,
too many hearts that've yet to bleed.
Hearing nothing and seeing less,
I'd always thought that I'd be left.
An empty church with painted walls,
enless turns and curving halls,
for unto you a stranger calls,
a Lover that won't let you fall.
(chorus)
I sit inside and empty pew,
it's vancant and I'm borne anew.
A chipped nail and a rusty bar,
a Bible open to my heart.
(chorus)
the story of a long past-death,
hearing nothing and seeing less.
Broken dreams that catch your breath,
I'd always thought that I'd be left.
Standing on a barren hill,
covered in the cheapest thrill.
Cigarettes that burn your throat,
a faeiry tale whose ending broke.
A Savior who will hold you high,
the One who made you and I.
A shattered glass that I have dropped,
He picks it up and gives me hope*.
*I know that hope doesn't rhyme with dropped. Any suggestions?
Comments
(2)
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