keep falling down

Note: A song

Oh, I'm on my last hinge.
The door is rocking closed, It's rocking closed.
My last hinge,
And I'm becoming uncomposed
I'm not used to smiling when I'm sad
Or showing my true face when I'm mad

The sky turns gray
And yesterday
Becomes today in less than a day's time
Midnight's smile makes me cringe, makes me tired.
Makes me think I'm higher than this depressing pit of my own guilt

[Chorus]

Oh when the rain is falling on my head.
And when the night is stalling, instead
I couldn't believe that I could ever feel again.
I couldn't see that I would even want to live again

And when the rain is falling on my head
And when the ground comes up to meet me, not my bed
As I fall into the soft pillows of my dispair
And when I kiss the soft billows of your hair.
___

The rain keeps falling down
Keeps falling down
Keep falling down

The rain keeps falling down
Keeps falling down
Keep falling down

The sky turns gray
And yesterday
Becomes today in not even a day's time

And midnight's smile
would defile
The things that make me cringe

Oh, I'm on my lost hinge
The door is rocking closed, it's locking closed
My last hinge, and I'm slowly becoming uncomposed

I'm not used to smiling when I'm sad
Or showing my true face when I'm mad

The sky turns gray
And yesterday
Becomes today in not even a day's time

Midnight's smile makes me cringe makes me tired,
Make's me thing I'm higher than this depressing pit of my own guilt

[Chorus]

The rain keeps falling down
Keeps falling down

The rain keeps falling down
Keeps falling down

So rain, keep falling down
keep falling down

Just keep on falling down
keep falling down

doing things

note: Read this as if I'm blurring one sentence into the next, no pauses, just slightly from one line to the next. Read it as if the farther I go the faster I get the more madening each word is, fueling the next.

You're doing things again.
The things that make me mad inside my head.
Doing things that make me cringe they make me feel
like I could crash and die and burn and why?
to make me feel so small, is this the plan?
Doing things.
Could you do things that I would want
The things that make me go?
They make me tick
Like wishing we could dance real slow?
Doing things like coming up to me to me and whispering
that I'm not perfect
Cuz I don't want to be an inhuman
idealist
bubble of perfection
I am human
I am wrong
This is the meaning of the word
The bad nature
The associations.
I am bad
there's no doubting that much
But why does this peace of mind settle over me
Like a cool mist?
This peace of mind unsettles me
deeply
it strangles at my feet
the finger tips touching me reverantly and yet
and yet
they're grabbing me like they want me to come down this confusion
its eating me up making me
sick inside of course its wrong of course its right of
course it's telling me that I should not worry because
why would
I worry when the soothing voices tell me not
to
tell me not to shake and scream they tell me not to that's
the reason that I do because
I must defy them, I must defy all they stand for
that perfection,
my pacing feet going back and forth carry by body and for
what?
Why should they?
Why can't you just tell me the truth and it'll be over with. Tell me
that I'm wrong that I'm fake that I'm real that I'm good that I'm bad
and small and all the things of misery
because this misery is eating me up
it must defy the peace of mind that lingers, so close, on the edge of all my thoughts
or else maybe I'd just be happy
and that would just be plain wrong.