Killerwood
Kind of hard feeling,
Like when someone complains on clothes,
Or something else that is stuck in the throat
Hard and lonely,
I never understood
Come home again
Come home,
I never understood
The aching in my throat is still as hard as before
I did not know or understand
I'm older now but just as young
I'm the same person
Selfish,
The selfishness that crawls upon you when you least expect
Like a spider in your bed
That you have laid into pieces,
But still not
It doesn't die,
No it's still there
