I was lying in my bed,
thinking of you,
looking up at the stars,
then I realized, "Where is my roof?"
I decided to talk a walk,
in the park at midnight,
to gather up all those thoughts,
that fell out in school.
And those memories,
came rushing back to me,
as I thought to myself, where is the end?
I looked around to see,
is this what it is all about,
shy corners and confines,
and tortured souls to bother
Whispers hiding from notes carried away,
in that forgotten song,
what the hell is this world coming to?
I'm sick of always being second best,
that girl next door,
I'm sick of pleading my case,
I didn't do it.
I never made that mistake,
that keeps haunting my past,
it was a broken mirror,
a collapsed of what?
Cornered wind, cracked gust,
never bothering to take in,
that last breath of air,
is finally getting thin
And I ran into a sign, not that kind,
and I was thinking about what you said,
about the emptiness of?
Of what, I wondered, of life that was stalled
or death that was coming, again.
I guess I'll never know.
And I started thinking, not drinking,
about people, in a way never before.
Doesn't matter, you said.
Are you good people? Bad people?
Guess-it-doesn't-matter people?
Where thought was in the end?