Robert Allen
Shamrock High Decatur, GA Class of 1982

Robert  Allen's Profile Personal Info

Name:
Robert Allen
Graduation Year:
1982

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Robert  Allen Memories Memories of Robert Allen

All my friends are heathens. Take it slow
Wait for them to ask you who you know
Please don't make any sudden moves
You don't know the half of the abuse

All my friends are heathens. Take it slow
Wait for them to ask you who you know
Please don't make any sudden moves
You don't know the half of the abuse

Welcome to the room of people
Who have rooms of people that they loved one day
Docked away
Just because we check the guns at the door
Doesn't mean our brains will change from hand grenades

You'll never know the psychopath sitting next to you
You'll never know the murderer sitting next to you
You'll think, "How'd I get here, sitting next to you?"
But after all I've said
Please don't forget

All my friends are heathens. Take it slow
Wait for them to ask you who you know
Please don't make any sudden moves
You don't know the half of the abuse

We don't deal with outsiders very well
They say newcomers have a certain smell
You have trust issues, not to mention
They say they can smell your intentions

You'll never know the freakshow sitting next to you
You'll have some weird people sitting next to you
You'll think, "How'd I get here, sitting next to you?"
But after all I've said
Please don't forget
(Watch it, watch it)

All my friends are heathens. Take it slow
Wait for them to ask you who you know
Please don't make any sudden moves
You don't know the half of the abuse

All my friends are heathens. Take it slow
(Watch it)
Wait for them to ask you who you know
(Watch it)
Please, all my friends are heathens. Take it slow
(Watch it)
Wait for them to ask you who you know

Why'd you come, you knew you should have stayed
I tried to warn you just to stay away
And now they're outside ready to bust
It looks like you might be one of us

A candle flickered into life, symbol of hope for millions. A single tiny candle, shining in the ugly dark. I laughed and blew it out.

As you know, madness is like gravity...all it takes is a little push.

all it takes is one bad day

Memory's so treacherous. One moment you're lost in a carnival of delights, with poignant childhood aromas, the flashing neon of puberty, all that sentimental candy-floss... the next, it leads you somewhere you don't want to go. Somewhere dark and cold, filled with the damp ambiguous shapes of things you'd hoped were forgotten

Even psychopaths have emotions, then again, maybe not.

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