<font face="CAC Camelot">~*~ The Ghost Within ~*~

~~ The Ghost Within ~~

Did anyone ever tell you you’re #1 with a bullet? The king or queen of the castle or the grave and did anyone ever remember the misfit with a halo and angel’s wings that never could be saved so if I confess my poison and pour you my dreams do you think down deep you can be my savior? Cuz all the gods I’ve known they never gave me suicide but they killed my lucky stars to see me cry Does it give you life to know I’ve never lived? Drink away the sin to find the ghost within Too many broken faces, too many painted hearts I guess I’ll fit right in.... -C. 12/13/97

~*~ You Don't Die Enough ~*~

Remember how we used to know everything? Remember how we held up heaven? Remember trying to live when you weren’t alive? Remembering it’s all a handful of dust... You don’t think enough, you don’t drink enough, you don’t hate enough, you don’t break enough... Forget how you used to feel everything Forget your heart out in the cold Forget your wishful thinking cuz there ain’t no stars Remember it’s all a sky full of dust... You don’t sleep enough, you don’t dream enough, you don’t dirt enough, you don’t hurt enough... A lonely rag doll with splinters in your lollypops But you don’t die enough to cry When you were half alive and you walked a mile on pins & nails But you don’t die enough to cry... -C. 8/4/97

~*~ This Bastard World ~*~

This bastard world Is all that you have All that you see; chosen company.. This bastard world Wrings you out Barricaded; thinly jaded.. And this bastard girl Lives without Looks within Dragged through the last life by her next of kin... They fronted her hope and gave her need Her world was desolation at the slowest speed.... I can be what I want if the contract said To be free is conditional To be real is dead.. And your hurt comes down And your hurt’s a gift No charming hello’s No goodbyes kissed When your heart’s dissected then your hurt belongs...... -C. 9/6/98

~*~ Last Soul on the Train ~*~

Change your name Start the 8-ball running Did you trade escape for calamity & numbing?... Poster child; You’re the one with tragic eyes Rape your sensitivity Your scars are neon signs.. So you wait for the sky to clear And you’re crying your last tear Yours is the last soul on the train… Trail of blood like a finger-painting child; drew the map to your sanity, you followed in denial... Anger & pain got you through like caffeine chic It seems you told the world your hell with lipstick on your cheek And you’re late for your funeral Because you’re hiding behind the carousel Yours is the last soul on the train… -C. 1998

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