Like fingerprints, no two lives are the same. Mine is filled with mistakes, contemplation, amendments, and repetition of all three.
Monday, November 29, 2010
by Gary Jules
All around me are familiar faces Worn out places, worn out faces Bright and early for the daily races Going nowhere, going nowhere Their tears are filling up their glasses No expression, no expression Hide my head I wanna drown my sorrow No tomorrow, no tomorrow And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take When people run in circles its a very, very Mad world, mad world