Hello We haven't talked in quite some time
I know I haven't been the best Of sons
I've been traveling in The desert of my mind
And I Haven't found a drop Of life
I haven't found a drop Of you
I haven't found a drop of me
I haven't found a drop Of water
Sometimes I see flying saucers
I don't feel very sheltered
I need a mother to cover me
Its not what it means
I scratch my hand while its shaking
Writing quickly, a voice is what I'm making
Through years I finally notice that I am changing
I'm addicted to the pen