To do something completly original, I'll write a songfic about Duo being
tormented and going crazy! *coughcough* o.O;; God, it's 11: 53pm...I should
get to sleep... I'll finish this later...
Disclaimer: If I really owned the rights to Behind Blue Eyes or Gundam
Wing, do you think I would be writing songfics at midnight? No. I would be
sleeping in a huge canopy bed with silk sheets and a diamond nightlight.
(Probably not....but whatever) Now leave me alone or I set my Domo-kun on
you.
Another A/N: If I ever meet limp bizkit, I am going to maim them for
ruining this beautiful song.
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
As he aimed the gun, he did something he rarely did. He stopped laughing
and focused his cobalt eyes on the eyes of his victim. Terror. Agony.
Sorrow. Hate. Mostly fear. She was young, blonde hair spilling out from
under her cadet hat. She was cowered against the far wall, caught between a
desk and the bed. Instead of his usual rant of power, he said something
that he had always felt before pulling the trigger. "I'm sorry."
No one knows what it's like
To be hated
To be fated
To telling only lies
He walked casually into the safe house, hiding behind his mask of smiles.
The tall boy looked up from his book. "How was it?" He grinned. "Succesful.
It will be awhile before Oz can clean the mess up. The God of Death strikes
again!" He stretched his smile even wider, and walked into the kitchen, to
look for something to eat.
But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
He rolled in his bed, ensnared by the sheets. Her eyes. They stared at him
even now, even after he had killed her. They were joined by so many others.
Green. Black. Brown. Blue. They all stared accusingly at him. "You tore us
away from our families." The gurgled screams of the dying ripped at his
ears. Her eyes spoke out again. "I was pregnant with my child. You knew
that. You saw the honorable discharge on my desk. You pulled the trigger
anyway!" "No! No!" He screamed at them. "I'm only fifteen! No! NO!"
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free
He had to kill them. They killed his family. Father Maxwell, Sister Helen:
they killed them. New base, new victims. He screamed as they fell "You
killed them! You! It's your fault!" He tried despertly to drown out their
last breaths, their bloody gasps. Their fault.
No one knows what it's like
To feel these feelings
Like I do
And I blame you
He looked despertly into his comrades' eyes, trying to see if they were as
tortured as he was. The Japanese obviously wasn't. He laughed as killed,
the crazed, hard laugh of a blood-soaked sociopath. The tall one was quiet,
just sat watching his victims writhe in pain. The blonde felt some guilt,
but his eyes soon glazed over and became numb. And the Chinese. He shook
his head. The Chinese was too preocupied with honor and justice to think
about such a petty thing as Death. He was alone in his human feelings.
No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain and woe
Can show through
He wanted to scream at them. You killed a family. You killed that little
girl. You killed that puppy. You killed that baby. You killed them. You
watched as they died. Did you enjoy it? Did you enjoy watching them at your
feet, their haunted eyes never leaving your face? Did you enjoy the blood
spattered on you, the crimson flag of victory and horror? But he kept it
inside. They didn't understand.
But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
He dreamnt again. This time, she was his wife, it was his child inside her.
He held her in his arms. She looked up at him with her haunting eyes. "The
General has honorably discharged me. We can get married, and buy a house
with a white picket fence. We can be a family." He found himself smiling at
her and placing a hand on her stomach. "I love you," he was whispering into
her ear. Inside he was screaming. "NO! I'M ONLY FIFTEEN! IT'S NOT MY FAULT!
I DIDN'T KILL YOU!"
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free
He was going to kill those OZ bastards. She was dead because of them, not
him. Their fault, not his. She was dead because of them
...she was dead...dead...they did it ......they...killed...dead...cold...
bloody...murderer...murderer...murderer...murderer...NO!
When my fist clenches, crack it open
Before I use it and lose my cool
When I smile, tell me some bad news
Before I laugh and act like a fool
If I swallow anything evil
Put your finger down my throat
If I shiver, please give me a blanket
Keep me warm, let me wear your coat
He needed someone. He needed comfort. He needed love. He needed help. He
looked at the gun he held in his hand, thought about what he wanted to do.
He clenched his jaw and brought the gun up to his temple. He stayed like
that for several minutes, the barrel resting on his alabaster skin, his
finger waiting to pull the trigger. He couldn't do it. He slipped the gun
back into its holster, and threw it under his bed. Of all the lives he was
capable of taking, this was the only one he couldn't bring himself to end.
He wiped his tears and slowly rocked himself to sleep.
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
tormented and going crazy! *coughcough* o.O;; God, it's 11: 53pm...I should
get to sleep... I'll finish this later...
Disclaimer: If I really owned the rights to Behind Blue Eyes or Gundam
Wing, do you think I would be writing songfics at midnight? No. I would be
sleeping in a huge canopy bed with silk sheets and a diamond nightlight.
(Probably not....but whatever) Now leave me alone or I set my Domo-kun on
you.
Another A/N: If I ever meet limp bizkit, I am going to maim them for
ruining this beautiful song.
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
As he aimed the gun, he did something he rarely did. He stopped laughing
and focused his cobalt eyes on the eyes of his victim. Terror. Agony.
Sorrow. Hate. Mostly fear. She was young, blonde hair spilling out from
under her cadet hat. She was cowered against the far wall, caught between a
desk and the bed. Instead of his usual rant of power, he said something
that he had always felt before pulling the trigger. "I'm sorry."
No one knows what it's like
To be hated
To be fated
To telling only lies
He walked casually into the safe house, hiding behind his mask of smiles.
The tall boy looked up from his book. "How was it?" He grinned. "Succesful.
It will be awhile before Oz can clean the mess up. The God of Death strikes
again!" He stretched his smile even wider, and walked into the kitchen, to
look for something to eat.
But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
He rolled in his bed, ensnared by the sheets. Her eyes. They stared at him
even now, even after he had killed her. They were joined by so many others.
Green. Black. Brown. Blue. They all stared accusingly at him. "You tore us
away from our families." The gurgled screams of the dying ripped at his
ears. Her eyes spoke out again. "I was pregnant with my child. You knew
that. You saw the honorable discharge on my desk. You pulled the trigger
anyway!" "No! No!" He screamed at them. "I'm only fifteen! No! NO!"
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free
He had to kill them. They killed his family. Father Maxwell, Sister Helen:
they killed them. New base, new victims. He screamed as they fell "You
killed them! You! It's your fault!" He tried despertly to drown out their
last breaths, their bloody gasps. Their fault.
No one knows what it's like
To feel these feelings
Like I do
And I blame you
He looked despertly into his comrades' eyes, trying to see if they were as
tortured as he was. The Japanese obviously wasn't. He laughed as killed,
the crazed, hard laugh of a blood-soaked sociopath. The tall one was quiet,
just sat watching his victims writhe in pain. The blonde felt some guilt,
but his eyes soon glazed over and became numb. And the Chinese. He shook
his head. The Chinese was too preocupied with honor and justice to think
about such a petty thing as Death. He was alone in his human feelings.
No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain and woe
Can show through
He wanted to scream at them. You killed a family. You killed that little
girl. You killed that puppy. You killed that baby. You killed them. You
watched as they died. Did you enjoy it? Did you enjoy watching them at your
feet, their haunted eyes never leaving your face? Did you enjoy the blood
spattered on you, the crimson flag of victory and horror? But he kept it
inside. They didn't understand.
But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
He dreamnt again. This time, she was his wife, it was his child inside her.
He held her in his arms. She looked up at him with her haunting eyes. "The
General has honorably discharged me. We can get married, and buy a house
with a white picket fence. We can be a family." He found himself smiling at
her and placing a hand on her stomach. "I love you," he was whispering into
her ear. Inside he was screaming. "NO! I'M ONLY FIFTEEN! IT'S NOT MY FAULT!
I DIDN'T KILL YOU!"
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free
He was going to kill those OZ bastards. She was dead because of them, not
him. Their fault, not his. She was dead because of them
...she was dead...dead...they did it ......they...killed...dead...cold...
bloody...murderer...murderer...murderer...murderer...NO!
When my fist clenches, crack it open
Before I use it and lose my cool
When I smile, tell me some bad news
Before I laugh and act like a fool
If I swallow anything evil
Put your finger down my throat
If I shiver, please give me a blanket
Keep me warm, let me wear your coat
He needed someone. He needed comfort. He needed love. He needed help. He
looked at the gun he held in his hand, thought about what he wanted to do.
He clenched his jaw and brought the gun up to his temple. He stayed like
that for several minutes, the barrel resting on his alabaster skin, his
finger waiting to pull the trigger. He couldn't do it. He slipped the gun
back into its holster, and threw it under his bed. Of all the lives he was
capable of taking, this was the only one he couldn't bring himself to end.
He wiped his tears and slowly rocked himself to sleep.
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes