

The Language of LoveThe language of love is not chocolate or roses It is not cards, it is not hearts Nor socks for my toesies It is not holidays in Spain Nor is it bears, nor is it pups It is not sexy lingerie, nor cheap tacky cupsThe Language of Love
It is kisses, it is wishes It is walks by the sea It is cuddles at night The world, just you and me


The Victim's PrayerWhere are you? Here I am, waiting for you, looking over a mass of people And I can't see youThe Victim's Prayer
When I was told I felt as if I had been there myself I felt the icy waves crash into my chest Bluey brown water flooding me Icy under-currents froze my soul And I cried my own sea in fear
How I got here, I don't remember It was a blur, as if I'd seen it all before Seen it through a glazed window A window that I'd never hoped to open Time became the sand, washed away Drifting swiftly, drawn away from me by the sea
Who found you, I wonder  


The Faintest TouchThe crowd's always so noisy, you think, walking out of the huge, iron gates of the pit of Hell. It's not the place itself that makes it Hell, it's the little demons that pass for kids that do. But, it's a nice day, so you walk out of those gates, and...freedom! Look left, look right, you've always known that since you were young. A teacher shouts as they see you crossing. "Use the crossing at the end of the road, you're setting a bad example!" You've heard this so many times, you wonder why they bother. You just wave the calls away, and drift down the road.The Faintest Touch
It's still noisy, going along this road. Girls only just old enough to be
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When life hands you lemons, shut up and eat your damn lemons!
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