august was in a drought
a literal burden to my thoughts
i thought i was gonna die out
but here standing on my way out

add my name to your medal tray
i was your eleventh or twelfth prey
once your gold in the bay
then only a ghost in your days

has come the september
i hope no more sobber
that person could’ve been better
but then proven to be disaster

and time is ticking
here i'm hoping
it will erase every single thing
cause i won’t hold on to nothing

and i might live with the pain
but it will heal under the rain
it's foolish to believe you were a saint
but one day what you plant is what you gain