What's the Point

What's the point of knowing the truth,
We just sit there and ponder on the roof,
While knowing that no one cares,
Our only friends are teddy bears.

What's the point in feeling pain,
When most of it is caused by vain,
And we're all to die of broken heart,
When lies and indignity take their part.

What's the point in speaking lies,
I guess MCR were right in saying 'We're meant for flies',
I'm sorry I have to talk like this,
But it's times like this that gets me on the piss.

What's the point in writing words,
If they're never to be read and never heard,
And they say the pen is mightier then the sword,
But what about disappointment that cannot be afford.

What's the point in spilling your soul,
Out into a metaphoric bowl,
With all you emotions swimming around,
Though they're worth more in the ground.

What's the point in feeling at all,
Coz at the end we always fall;
With no one there to catch us, still,
I'd rather be dead as a victim of kill.

*BANG*