I scream your name, to see if you're awake.

Light hearted arguments,
Among the waves of symmetry,
This temperamental charisma,
Will be the end of me,

And I whisper your name,
To see if you're awake.

It's all or nothing with me,
I want to find a balance between,
Light hearted arguments,
Among the waves of hypocrasy,
This temperamental charisma,
Is hardly helping me.

And I scream out your name,
To see if you're awake.

And those words will carry you far.
And those words will carry you home.

I went for a walk today. In my preparation, I shaved, I dressed myself in a nice dressy shirt (but made sure to still wear jeans so I wouldn't seem too fake), and I put the papers in my fag-bag. It seemed to take me forever, but finally, I made it to the mall with the high-pitched falsetto-nagging of Muse beating at my ear drums. I walked back and forth through the mall, pretending I had somewhere to go. I did. I was simply holding out as long as I could. I didn't want to deal with these people in a business manner, I am far too insecure. After I had browsed through all the "interesting" stores, I decided I couldn't leave without fulfilling my two and a half hour waste of time. I held my breath and walked up to the managers and handed each of them my resume nervously. They all took it with a generous smile upon their face. Something wasn't right, my stomach had been in knots all day, my brain and shirt twisted into a tangled mess, and it was that easy? Maybe they were being polite out of sympathy, they knew that I wouldn't be getting the job, so they were silently wishing me luck. Either way, it was a burden lifted from my chest, and my walk home seemed much shorter.