#1
Here it is, crit for crit

Hang me up in outer space
Just don?t look at my still drying face
There?s a trophy to take my place
It says ?for hating the human race?

Pale figures, stale shells
Corroded cinnamon leaves it smell
I had you only when you were well
Upon that rusty carrousel

Breathe me into your void
Sucking noises to make noise
That?s it, with grace and poise
Don?t bleed you toes, remember the boys

While imagining a soft warm beach
I feel millions of heads beneath my feat
You are right there, not out of reach
You are right there, not out of reach

Hang me up in outer space
Just don?t look at my still drying face
There?s a trophy to take my place
It says ?for hating the human race
#3
not a bad start, but to be honest it looks like your trying to hard with the metaphors... as the last reply says the cinnamon referance and the carrosel thing seem out of place and contrived.... make the lyrics a little bit more down to earth you know


i love this part though

"I feel millions of heads beneath my feat
You are right there, not out of reach
You are right there, not out of reach"

but think of something other than the warm beach thing... how bout

"I look over the edge of my seat
And see millions of heads beneath my feet"
#4
sucking noises that make noise? whats that sposed to tell me? other then that that kinda sounded forced for the sake of the rhyme, and the kin of unoriginal rhyme scheme, its pretty good, but i wish'd be clearer, but still alright, pretty good

critting back, check out the The Other Side... stuff in sig