Memoirs of my boulevard

What lips my lips have kissed where and why, I have forgotten what arms have lain under my head till morning But the rain is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh Upon the glass and listen for reply, And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain For unremembered noone again will turn to me at midnight with a cry. And in winter stands the lonely tree, Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one, Yet knows its tree branch more silent than before: I cannot say what lovers have come and gone, I only know that summer sang in me A little while, that in me sings no more

Love is such a wonderful thing, The whole world seems to shine, A love like this makes your heart sing, It makes you smile, it makes you glow. A love so strong lets you feel free, No one can touch you, no one can hurt you, When you're in love with that perfect man. Then the day comes, the sky clouds over, The birds cease to sing. A cold wind blows through you, A feeling of fear takes over your every thought. You don't know why, or where this feeling came from, All you know is it's overwhelming and frightening. You look in his eyes and question what is there, Wondering if there's an ulterior motive hidden somewhere. You start to wonder if you deserve his love, You start to wonder if someone else could make him happier. You find yourself pulling away, Giving him space, yet wanting him to stay. You think you're doing the right thing giving him freedom, You walk away, thinking you're protecting yourself. You don't want him to hurt you, by turning you away. One t...

The truth I hold, took years to unfold, locked up and never told. Now I speak, for I am done being weak. A story I will tell, awakening the pits of hell. Pinned against the wall, being six a little small. Tongue against my chest, you can imagine the rest. Touching, feeling, my eyes rolling to the ceiling. I push away, forced down, I am here to stay and pray. Day and night, always full of fright Kissing, sucking, nonstop fucking. Crying, weeping, always happened when they're sleeping. Was I that bad of a kid? Why was I auctioned with this demon to bid? Sold to the pervert in the chair, dragged off stage by the strings of my hair. A puppet I am to him, dangling from limb to limb. The Years pass on by, I have no tears left to cry. I escaped this hate, no more videos left to tape. Visits became less and less, I'm starting to grow up a mess. Drinking here, smoking there, my life is hard to share. Making friends with the junkies, parading around town like diseased monkeys. Everyday...