I love you
You can't see it
You're not blind
Just an idiot

Song -- I'll be okay

Take me somewhere I can breathe
Take me to the riot
Take me outside where I feel speed
Take me where I can buy it

I can't sing in colour
And my ragged voice don't make time
I don't breathe electric
Throw me out on my ear, I'll be just fine

I'm leaving, I'm leaving, leaving you
For a trouble far away
I know it, I know what, I'm going to do
I'm gonna chase your face away
Just tell me how to do it
And I'll be okay

Take me somewhere I can spit
Without a reprimand
Take me somewhere I can hit
Without using my arm

I don't paint in voices
My rhymes don't always move in line
But throw me away and
I'll be just fine

I'm leaving, I'm leaving, leaving you
For trouble so far away
I know, I know what I will do
I'm gonna chase your scent away
Just tell how
I'll be okay

I only need instruction
I'll be okay
I only need a hand
I'll be okay
I only need a bad word to write
And I can own a band
I'll be okay
I kow that I'll be just fine...
If you give me time

I'm leaving, I'm leaving, leaving you
For peace so close today
I know it, I know what, I'm gonna do
I'm gonna laugh my blues away
Just tell me how
Just give me a hand
Just say no
I'll be okay.

All these boys look the same
Taste the same
Fuck the same
I need a change

All my girls look the same
Taste the same
Fuck the same
But something's changed

We've grown up,
Your tricks won't work any more
We need eargasm
You're not even hardcore
You're immature

Oh-woah,

I'm not sure what you mean
Because nothing you seem to say to my face
Makes sense
I'm always seeing red, and green
Because I'm jealous and angry that you always
Use defense
To make me cry
And I bite off
More than I can chew
More times than I can count
But that's nothing new

Short story: The girl with turquoise.

It was when she ripped the tights that everyone started to get bothered. Huge tears streaking down her legs, from her thighs to her toes. She did it with scissors, ruthlessly enjoying the rips she made in her skin and clothing.
The strange people came to the house again, telling the parents how her childhood fame had ruined her. She would never be the adorable girl with blond curls again; she had cut them off and straightened them until her hair was ruined, dying the remnants turquoise and purple, hoping to be expelled so she could go to the bad school and claim a ghetto background
Instead, she was told to get into drama.
She fit with the losers who dreamed of fame, with the sarcastic replies and near constant back chatting. The rips in her clothes were seen as expression.
Every night she told me wild stories of her fame, making up parties where beautiful people wore designer dress's over a thousand pounds and drank cocktails she'd found in a book her father used to whip out at parties.
She wasn't broken, she said, she was just waiting. Waiting for her mother to come back and claim her, for her father to stop using needles and start using a shirt and tie.
One morning, after she'd cried in her sleep and awoken with a wet pillow, she took me along the bank of the river, a trip out before school started. We watched the sun rise above the factory that was already pumping out steam at five in the morning, whispers of sleeping people drifting back to us from under the bridge.
I'll never do that, she said, I'll always ride at the top. I'll run this business, she declared proudly.
The next day in the paper there was a picture of a child star who had overdosed in a foreign country, dying alone without friends or her estranged family. She read this quietly, her eyes prickling with tears as her lips mimed the words.
She crossed herself even though she wasn't religious, miming apologies.
At school I heard more whispers of her, talking about her relationship with the girl who died. That was all she was to me; the girl who died; but to her she was three nights of no sleep, green kohl painted around her eyes in bright rings; green was the girl who died's favourite colour, she explained, it was in honour. Lest we forget.
I promised myself I would wear turquoise when she died, to remember her. I'd stay awake for three nights and cross myself, miming needless apologies.

I'm sorry, so sorry, always sorry.

She got back up, though, dancing down the streets like she always did, spinning me in crazy circles. I laughed with her as she did a perfect pirouette, ending with a bow. Heartbreakingly beautiful, she said. It was how she wanted to be known. Not the girl in the corner with the rips in her tights. Heartbreakingly beautiful.
Of all the endless nights she spent on the computer, clacking away on her websites to promote herself even anomalously, I watched her secretly from the beanbag in the corner, pretending not to notice when she clicked on adult sites, pretending to be much older than she was. She once danced for a woman in Alaska, rolling her body and spinning delicate moves a ballerina would envy.
I never envied her. Not once.
Last year while I signed the final documents to escape the home, there was a message in the post and the newspaper. The one in the newspaper was small, an obituary fit for a mouse. She would have been disappointed. In the letter, however, she wrote every word she ever wanted to say, and I published it. I won a prize, and crossed myself on stage, wearing turquoise circles around my eyes and ripped black nylons.
I told myself for all three nights I stayed awake she'd be back, this was just a stunt to grab attention for her, but she never returned. A post mortem showed she had followed her father into a pit of needles and lies. I was disappointed.
But she was still there in the dawn light, whispering under bridges words she forgot to write, dancing in streets where grandma's watched.
She was the biggest star the world had known.
She was heartbreakingly beautiful.
She was Kata.

Song -- Adrenalin

Streak ruby tears
Down my body
Drown my fears
In your misery
Adrenalin pumps
As you push, push
My chest bumps
On the tarmac

My heart stops --
And you hear the, hear the silence
One last scream
One last tear cried, then
Flatlining
And you're the train wreck
Throw yourself off my cliff
This is only soundcheck

Let's make it tragic
Fit for the screen
I'll die in white
So my blood is seen
Shot down
By my enemies
Screaming power
Sweet melodies

You're my drug
And I need my hit
Torture me
I wanna feel it
Whip my back
My every limb
Just make sure that
I get the adrenalin

I breath heavy, now
Gasps and pants
There's no time left
No time for ransoms or demands
Drag my body
Into the street
Leave me there
Make sure my lover finds me

Let me die in white
I want my blood to be seen
Write my name on the wall
In scarlet, please
Shot down
It's so tragic, now leave
Let the whole world know
What love means to me
Spit on my face
Film it so everyone sees
How the rich die
Make sure that I
Get the adrenalin

Adrenalin

Adrenalin, -alin, -alin

Oh!

Let me die in white
It's so innocent
Blood on the walls
Make me feel
Make me feel
Let the whole world know how I died
Whip my back
My every limb
Just make I get
The adrenalin

Song -- Smile

Last night I yelled some pretty shit stuff at you
You just pushed me harder
And I'm sorry for using public humiliation
To get what I'm after
But you smile
And I shout
Anything I try to say
Doesn't come out... right

You get on your high horse
And ride away
I can't follow you
What would my friends say
If they knew what I really thought

Go on, be moral
A psychiatrists dream
I can't help but hate you
I just want to scream
Until you scream back

How hard do I push
To get retaliation?
Your face is flacid
It's no special occasion
Just another day, with me

So again I yell shit right at you
You nod and push harder
I lied, I'm not sorry, for the humiliation
I didn't get what I asked for
But you smile
The louder I shout
It seems the words
Never come out... Right?

So get up on your high horse
Ride the fuck away
I won't follow you
I don't care what my friends say
When they find out

I don't miss the fights at three in the morning
I don't miss the way you never call me
Perhaps there's a girl screaming at you right... now?

I don't miss yelling the same shit at you
The way you'd nod because you'd had a few
Too many, maybe tomorrow you'll be sober
I got what I asked for
You left, at last
The memories fade
The time has past
I don't shout any longer
And that's okay... right?