• Wrapped up here,

    waiting for this night to take me.

    Ringing in my ears,

    are the words of those who hate me.

    Maybe I feel a little different from you.

    But I believe we both write what we want too.


    Maybe that's my mistake,

    trying to write as a means of escape.

    Knock me down, tear me up

    who I am can't be bought.

    Maybe it hurts so much because its true.

    Maybe I can survive....

    ….a little better then you.


    Just an old CD,

    playing music to my ears.

    See my life 3D,

    you write my faults out there so clear.

    Maybe we don't have a chance to get on well.

    But it's not like I tried to make your life Hell.


    Maybe that's my mistake,

    trying to forgive those who only hate.




    These are simple words,

    written with an old fountain pen.

    Does it feel good to hurt,

    someone trying to live again?

    I could become as cold and heartless as you,

    but I would rather fight for what my heart holds true.


    Maybe that's my mistake,

    trying to live real instead of fake.

    Maybe I should tell a lie,

    so I will never make you cry.

    Maybe hurting me is your way of escape.

    I guess then that means....

    ….this is all your Mistake.