The inspiration was empty air
And the window was full of false impressions
Cold sun and spring trees left bare

Even the seasons gave up on changing
It was apathy disguised as depression
The reasons not to get out of bed ranging

From paranoia to frustration
Of the lack of love and sincerity
A growing grave of your own creation

You could be happy if you really tried
And settled for idea of rarity
Convince yourself it’s wired

Into human nature but simply ignored