By Arcassin Burnham

Your love for me,
Is not right for me,
I could see our dreams,
floating into little pieces,
You need to be,
Away from me,
I don't want to
The epitome,
of your love that is not right for me,
I don't want you to fight for me,
You're just a memory,
Get off of me,
Your the past to me,
Please understand my plea,

/

No future is upon us nor has God even spoken,
About the ones who made it,
Only a few have been chosen,
I'm talking about the rapture honey,
I'm not a scientist,
If you pay me enough I'll be your personal
Psychiatrist,

are you listening
is there something in your mind
the skies are clearly brightening
love we're running out of time.