d a r k s i d e

I'm at Alex's house. We just got back from the softball practice, and I wasn't planning to get sucked into this whole "sports" thing again, but was. Darn. Oh, well. We are listening to RATM REALLY LOUD and it's rocking my socks. Like, my socks are rocking. Well, not really. But if they were sitting on the speakers, they would be. I also have my bass with me, cuz I'm going to Jeff's tomorrow, and I can play along with the songs I know, even if you can't hear a thing of it.

A jail cell is freedom
from the pain in my home.
Hatred passed on, passed on, passed on.
A world of violent rage,
but it's one that I can recognize
having never seen the color of my father's eyes.
Yes, I dwell in hell,
but it's a hell that I can GRIP.
I tried to grip my family,
but I SLIPPED.
To escape from the pain,
and an existence mundane,
I got a .9, a sign, a set, AND NOW I GOT A NAME!

READ MY WRITING ON THE WALL
NOONE HERE TO CATCH ME WHEN I FALL
DEATH IS ON MY SIDE...
SUICIDE!

Settle For Nothing - RATM

Cheerful, ain't it?

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