Feel free to leave anytime but now.
For what seems like years I've tried to help you.
Feelings of despair were your daily nightmare, and I your anchor.
Feel free to leave anytime but now.

I watched you fall but I was always there to soften the blows.
I cradled your head and sang you songs to sleep.
I wiped your tears and hushed your most horrific fears.
So feel free to leave anytime but now.

You said I was the stable one.
You said you were the wreck.
You said you were nothing without me.
You are free to leave, but please, anytime but now.

She left and my mind with her.
She left a hole in the soul that you clung to.
She changed me like no other could or ever will.
She forged the anchor that you left.

I wasn't the same and you knew it.
The anchor had rusted from years of your tears.
Just when I was never more grateful to not be alone.
You left me, you ******* left me.

The break was brutal,
long and ever present is the recovery,
had only you been there, who knows,
but you left, you ******* left.

I miss her and I miss you
I miss the tranquil times
I miss all good because little did I know and **** it for being true.
*It all left with you.

How long do you think it's been?
It doesn't matter now, I'm tired of waiting.
I am tired of waiting for life.
I am tired of waiting for happiness.

Life keeps passing me by and I sit and watch,
but I am tired of sitting, I want to fly.
My dreams are the skies and the clouds my possessions.
They bend to my voice and the heavens open.

The rain is so fresh it is as if they were the tears of God,
maybe this was his plan, but I prefer my way.
Worry does not afflict the free.
For I am done waiting.

"Why am I so sad?" he'd say,
those warm wet tears freezing the clay
"I've tried so hard, yet gotten nowhere", he'd scream
When he was my signpost.

So concerned of being lost, that he dropped the map.
Without thinking, he ran, into the dark.
Those warm wet tears still freezing the clay.
Ruining my dream.

Not once did he stop, still trying to get out,
all he was able to do was moan and weep,
which only ever plunged him ever more deep.
Ruining my dream.

In my youth I never once stopped him,
never helping him find that muddy map,
so trampled upon by fear and doubt.
I'd just watch.

Now the tears are my own,
It's me running, my map dropped
My signpost broken, hanging.
No one is stopping me.

I don't know how greedy that makes me,
Or any human,
The fact that we cry over the dead because it's they
That no longer provide us our dreams.

We've only cared about ourselves, so stop them.
The running, rest their feet.
Wake up to give them their chance of a dream.
**Maybe then I'll sleep.