Broken thoughts and stains of time
Linger upon her weeping face
You can hear her cry at night, if you listen
While she lies in a forgotten place

With white butterflies hanging on threads
And hollow eyes filled with the tears
She stings at the heart; tries to kill it all away
But she's still here

She'll hide beneath the shade of willow trees
Seeking some sort of protection she can't find
She can't help it, the hurts under her skin
You couldn't help her if you tried

She treads a path of dying lilies
With inflicting cuts from paper hearts
The butterflies follow in her despair
While the life tears her apart

She could find a paradise
Like the burning hunger for existence in the pit of her gut
She abided in a lie
Let out the blood from each cut

It was her fault, she caused it all
The pain she suffers while she lets the wounds heal
Maybe she wasn't meant to be
Never to even feel

Do you ever feel like breaking down?
Do you ever feel out of place?
Like somehow you just don't belong
And no one understands you
Do you ever wanna runaway?
Do you lock yourself in your room?
With the radio on turned up so loud
That no one hears you screaming

No you don't know what it's like
When nothing feels all right
You don't know what it's like
To be like me

To be hurt
To feel lost
To be left out in the dark
To be kicked when you're down
To feel like you've been pushed around
To be on the edge of breaking down
And no one's there to save you
No you don't know what it's like
Welcome to my life

Do you wanna be somebody else?
Are you sick of feeling so left out?
Are you desperate to find something more?
Before your life is over
Are you stuck inside a world you hate?
Are you sick of everyone around?
With their big fake smiles and stupid lies
While deep inside you're bleeding

No you don't know what it's like
When nothing feels all right
You don't know what it's like
To be like me

No one ever lied straight to your face
No one ever stabbed you in the back
You might think I'm happy but I'm not gonna be okay
Everybody always gave you what you wanted
Never had to work it was always there
You don't know what it's like, what it's like

To be hurt
To feel lost
To be left out in the dark
To be kicked when you're down
To feel like you've been pushed around
To be on the edge of breaking down
And no one's there to save you
No you don't know what it's like (what it's like)

We are the hollow men
we are the stuffed men
leaning together
headpiece filled with straw
our dried voices, when
 we whisper together
are quiet and meaningless
as wind in dry grass
or rats feet over broken glass
in our dry cellar

shape without form, shade without colour,
paralyzed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed
with direct eyes, to deaths other kingdom
remember us - if at all -not as lost
violent souls, but only
as the hollow men
the stuffed men.

Eyes i dare not meet in dreams
in deaths dream kingdom
these do not appear:
there, the eyes are
sunlight on a broken column
there, is a tree swinging
and voices are
in the winds singing
more distant and more solemn
than a fading star.

Let me be no nearer
in deaths dream kingdom
let me also wear
such deliberate disguises
rats coat, crowskin, crossed staves
in a field
behaving as the wind behaves
no nearer -

Not that final meeting
in the twilight kingdom

this is the dead land
this is cactus land
here the stone images
are raised, here they recieve
the supplication of a dead mans hand
under the twinkle of a fading star.

Is it like this
in deaths other kingdom
waking alone
at the hour when we are
trembling with tenderness
lips that would kiss
form prayers to broken stone

They eyes are not here
there are no eyes here
in this valley of dying stars
in this hollow valley
this broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

in this last of meeting places
we grop together
and avoid speech
gathered on this beach of the tumid river

sightless, unless
the eyes reappear
as the perpetual star
multifoliate rose
of deaths twilight kingdom
the hope only
of empty men

(here we go round the burning sun
burning pride burning lies
Here we go round the burning truth
at five o'clock in the morning)

between the idea
and the reality
between the motion
and the act
falls the shadow
                                                                     For thine is the kingdom

between the conception
and the creation
between the emotion
and the response
falls the shadow
                                                                        Life is very long

Between the desire
and the spasm
between the potency
and the existence
between the essence
and the descent
falls the shadow
                                                                       For thine is the kingdom

(this is the way the world ends
this is the way the world ends
this is the way the world ends
not with a bang but a whimper)