The lies we tell each other are nothing
compared to the lies we tell ourselves.
We bask in insecurities, dwell with secrets,
cringe at truth and reply in vain defenses.
In a crowded room hides an empty heart
Going in circles, going in circles
Round and round, we chase
Like a box looking for its corners
Such selfish, selfish love.
To possess, to obsess, to hold what cannot be held
To wonder and wander between
Six feet under and six feet above
What could be more dangerous
Than the things we secretly want?
 |
| Nirvana |
No comments:
Post a Comment