Woe are we./
The lucky ones.../
But lucky doesn't/
do much for you let it fade./
I told her even stars died/
She was afraid I was jaded/
Too late/
La vie en rose/
Too close to even close doors with locks/
Even locks get jammed/

Lord knows even roses have thorns/
And if Satan was an angel/
Than even angels can have horns/

Woe am I.../
When the apple of your eye,/
Is rotten./
Can't even enjoy the fruit of your labor,/
Gotten myself into it again.../
Not a metaphor when I say its nerve wracking,/
But I'm strung tight enough to hit a discord easily./
That's one for the notes...staffs...and the quotes.\