hiss skinny i feel i've been trained worthless no scapegoat, it's not your fault. love ignored, inverted the cros and scarecrows are playing with god. the dangling yarn, the hissing, luaghing so suddenly impressed with the sound of your own voice the screams, moaninh, you find yourself commiting far away from friends an empty house, or somewhere to feel good about the blood you've on your hands. shallow eyes make shallow friends find comfort in the sex that's been kept warm by the ones you love, or show concern. 050106 what's it to you? who go blather from