Walking home by myself
A lonely trip with only the wind to keep me company
Cigarette butts litter the curb
Whose lips they've touched
Their story I will never know

The smells of nighttime and laundry fill the air
In the distance, music can be heard mixed with laughter
Somewhere, memories are being made
Unbeknownst to the receiving, someone is falling in love
For it to only end up in heartbreak

In those high rise buildings
Someone is contemplating suicide
Three doors down, a life is being made

On these lonely walks home
I witness the world we live in
In the darkness, I can see