IRC-Galleria

I bet you laugh, at the thought of me thinking for myself. [myself]
I bet you believe, that I'm better off with you than someone else.
Your face arrives again, all hope I had becomes so real.
But under your covers more torture than pleasure
And just past your lips there mores anger than laughter
Not now or forever will I ever change you
I know that to go on, I'll break you my habit!
You taunt my heart, a sense I never knew I had.
I can't forget, the times when I was lost and depressed form the awful truth