scorched snake on scorched earth,
why do my thoughts decide my worth?
time flies and time dies
when she cries tress fall
in August after
remembrances of summer days
that burned away on cold spells
bleeding roses on a thorny bush
why must she forget to push?
there's no other scream to cry
or alibi for sad men in the gutter
(she was what I wanted not,
she was what I never got)
and with some soup on a Friday night,
that I forgot, cold, waiting- -
just like me
so come and see, my empty heart
on display as the kids play in the cold playground
with snow all around them,
laughing, without thought, without a made up mind
just innocence, and I try to crack a smile
for I always hate what I never had, and never will have,
and I maybe I'll give up this time
('away,' she mocks me, 'away'
and I always go, for you, always)