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Not lyrics, more of a poem, if you'd call them that.
Bedtime Monologue
I'm too afraid to sleep tonight.
I'm afraid of what I might say.
But I'm more afraid that no one will be listening.
Oh, did I mention I'm a sleep talker?
I sleep walk too.
Likewise, I'm afraid of what I'll do tonight.
Have you ever woke up in the shower at three in the morning?
I don't remember what I dreamt that night.
Have you ever had a dream only to find out that it actually happened?
That makes every dream a potential nightmare.
Have you ever heard of sexomnia?
Let's hope I get laid before it comes to that.
Repost This
“Why do you repost those stupid bulletins, Alex? You know you won’t really be killed by the spirit of a skank that got beat do death by some gang raping frat boys.”
“Oh, I know. I’m not doing it to save myself. I copy, paste, and repost with a small hope that some of my 108 asshole friends do get killed by the attention seeking self hating suicidal loser that offed himself when some jock picked on him.”
“But what if one of your good friends winds up dead at the bottom of the very same sewer that some art chick was pushed into by some plastic wannabe with the cheerleader friends rooting her on?”
“I suppose that is a risk I’m willing to take.”
“Do you really think anyone will die?”
“I don’t know. All I can do is repost and hope.”
“Why do you hope such terrible things?”
“Why do people do the terrible things I repost?”
“Because they’re trying too hard to be cool? Because they’re taking it too far? Because they want to be accepted so badly, they’ll do anything for it. Because they can’t be happy knowing innocent, happy, normal people are out there?”
“Yeah…more or less.”
I Got My Soul, If You Got My Back
"You're going to Hell, Alex."
Don't worry, I have my own religion. It's got two Heavens. I'm free, Leah. Free to do whatever I want because I believe it real hard. Sometimes I scrunch my nose up real hard just thinking about it. Abby thinks it's cute, but she'll kill herself worrying about me bursting a blood vessel. I'm not scared though. If I do, I'll be one vein closer to one of those Heavens I told you about.
But, Leah? I do want you to save me. It's nice to know you care. You mean well. That is more than I can say for Rachel (I might create a Hell, just for her).
Don't worry, Leah. I may be a Godless asshole, but I'm not a Godless idiot. And, Leah? Please don't worry about yourself, either. You've got a smile to swoon Satan, and a body to blow Buddha away. You'll work wonders on St. Peter at those Pearly Gates.
And for the record, I hope you get into the Heaven that I get into. I'll hope harder than ever.
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KALOPSIA
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