I wait for the day where my life force burns out
will I watch it dim, a scene so grim
or will I shout, and rage at the gods of creation
having it flare so brightly that people will see it's light for generations
the "it" being my soul
it's despair open for all to see
what beauty and tragedy the human soul can bear, it's what you were to me
I really miss the smell and feeling of your hair
at this point, I'm just a burnt out creep that's tired
of being ignored by what he admires.
effort wasted,
feeling created,
moments hated,
yet those moments are so sacred
I relive them in my mind,
trying so hard to find
where I went wrong
It's been so long
please, just sing me
one
last
song