Outcasted
Being outcasted is like a jet black wall.
It tastes like blood from your bleeding finger.
It smells like rotten tomato's in the baking sun.
And reminds me of a dying rose.
It sounds like a faint cry for help on a windless day.
Being outcassted makes me feel like I am alone dying in a corner.
Being outcasted is like a jet black wall.
It tastes like blood from your bleeding finger.
It smells like rotten tomato's in the baking sun.
And reminds me of a dying rose.
It sounds like a faint cry for help on a windless day.
Being outcassted makes me feel like I am alone dying in a corner.
