Visual ProjectBy

Hank Arens

English 1302Mrs. Oliver

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tab=wi

Music is by The Used

By The Used

Poetic Tragedy

By The Used

The cup is not half empty as pessimists say

As far as he sees nothing’s left in

the cup

A whole cup full of nothing for him to

indulge

Since the voice of ambition has long since

been shut up

A singer

a writer

He’s not dreaming now of going

nowhere

He gave heed to nothing

And all that he was is just

a tragedy

So he voyages in circles succeeds getting nowhere

and submits to the substance that first got him there, there, there, there

violent frustration

he cries out to

God or just no

one

is there a point to this

madness?

and all that he was is just a tragedy

He feels alone

His heart in his hands, he’s alone

He feels alone

I F E E L

Then on that last day he

breaks

And he stood tall

Then he yelled

(and he yelled)

Why world!! Why world!! Hate you!! Bye

world!!

Violent frustrationHe cries out to God or just know one

Is there a point to this madness?

And all that he was is just a

tragedy

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By The Used

Poetic Tragedy

By The Used