As the night came,
the stars are out

Here I am outside,
my parents yelling at me to come inside

Ignoring them and just chilling,
they even don't know what the feeling

Fresh air keeping me away from depression,
stops me for thinking anything

My mind right now is thinking about this myth,
if a person dies they'd become a star

I wonder if I die,
where or what would I be, a star or a ghost or what-so-ever

Staring at the waxing crescent moon,
while listening to my favorite music

Out here all night satisfies my whole life.