The Best Songs I've Written

The Satire of Hurting Another

I need an excuse,
Not an ordinary abuse.
I need an excuse,
For myself to act so bruised.

I need a word,
To make me sound less blurred.
I need a word,
So I don't have to feel so hurt.

Will you bury me,
(Will you bury me in gold, gold.)
Will you smother me,
(Will you smother me in untold, untold.)

I've got a feeling,
That nothing will change.
I've got a one minded thinking,
That my heart will be in blame.

But the storm of angels cry,
But the heart ache of loving goodbyes,
And the satire of hurting another,
but the pieces we carved from our brothers.

Will you bury me,
(Will you bury me in gold.)
Will you smother me,
(Will you smother me in untold.)

I need a sign,
To make me seem alright.
I need a sign,
For all my thoughtful lies.

I need a lesson,
So I can't hurt them.
I need a lesson,
To make me feel less barren.

Will you bury me,
(Will you bury me in gold, gold.)
Will you smother me,
(Will you smother me in untold, untold.)

I've got a feeling,
That nothing will change.
I've got a one minded thinking,
That my heart will be in blame.

But the storm of angels cry,
But the heart ache of loving goodbyes,
And the satire of hurting another,
but the pieces we carved from our brothers.

Will you bury me,
(Will you bury me in gold)
Will you smother me,
(Will you smother me in untold)

I've got a feeling,
That nothing will change.
I've got a one minded thinking,
That my heart will be in blame.

But the storm of angels cry,
But the heart ache of loving goodbyes,
And the satire of hurting another,
but the pieces we carved from our brothers.

Will you bury me,
(Will you bury me in gold)
Will you smother me,
(Will you smother me in untold)