I hope you know your words are like knives.
Cutting through my flesh, sticking out my back.
Some of them may leave scars and never mend,
but you should know that I can't feel the stabs.
They're in places others have already been before,
so why don't you take them out?

They say we are made of stars.
But why does it feel like I'm made of coal?
The embers of my soul are dimming,
As my fire is soon to burn out.

i'll tell you about my demons,
and you tell me about yours.
maybe theyll get along,
well enough to fall in love
and leave us alone.

wishing for the impossible
waiting for another day
hoping for a better tomorrow
wishing for a better end

Once for the beginning.
Twice for the first of worries.
Third for the edge of eternity's trap.
Fourth for everything else under the sky.

stay with me 'till the sky turns grey
and i'll sing for you and the brand new day

Even the brightest stars,
The ones people write poetry about,
The ones that fascinate all of human life,
Burn out until no trace is left,
And those on Earth who waited for it to come around every decade,
Get bored of seeing the same dying light.
It gets forgotten,
Forgotten in time and space.