I know I believe in nothing
But it is my nothing
I'm sitting in the corner of a dim coffee shop
A birthday party is the center of attention
I look around and I see my friends
The drag queens, the lesbians, the effeminate boys and the straights
Huddled around a cheap pink and white cake and Dixie cups filled with
champagne
The candles are blown out
I watch the smoke from the matchstick,
Swirling so close to their faces, filling their nostrils with the lingering
smell
I breathe in the scent of the matchstick burning out
And for a moment I can relate... because my soul is burning out
I look around and for a second I can tell that everyone is in complete and
utter harmony
But in the end, everything is like that fucking matchstick
Burning out
Fading away
Lost forever
The smiles in the coffee shop won't stay
The champagne will be all drunk up soon
The cake will go stale
The shop will close down
The friends will grow apart
And the matchstick will be thrown away
Like a lost soul stepping out of a deteriorating coffee shop
The corner is empty, but a lesson was learned there
Everything is over-rated.