the light fades at the end of the day.
it always has.
since I've arrived, I've been seeing sunset skies,
but you're never with me when the day ends.
you were never with me at all.
I'm starting to believe that I don't know all the answers, never have.
I don't know who's writing this book, but they wrote me in as lonely.
I fade so slowly I can almost believe I'm alive,
my favorite part of living will always be the morning sky.
I spend my evenings sleeping while the sun escapes me,
and flies off to California, leaving me in bed.
I couldn't hate you, I'm dying slow.