Falling, falling, falling, ah. The desolate feeling of falling. Baby where are you? heh,your somewhere else, catching someone else who's falling for you? It's destitute cavalry that has me doing shit, that I wouldn't normally do for anyone except for under these pretenses. In fact these feelings compel me and control me to the point that I'd do almost anything, actually anything that would make her happy, smile, or be appreciative. This sounds really nice, being a tragic hero but in reality I'm just a psychologically/emotionally damaged-romanticle, that dies endlessly for your affection, your love.
Im just torturing myself, for the mere satisfaction of the chase.
Forever more I am A
"Dying Breed".
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