I will not waste my youth
For wasting youth is selfish.
Ethereal dreams are the only source for
some of us,
Since wasting while young is our ultimate
act.

Our ultimate act dies,
And our youth leaves us.
These false hazy summers are so
desirable yet so far,
Polaroid evidence captures them to be the
ultimate fallacy.

Over false tales of boats on water,
This age cannot live a song.
The cigarette shall burn a hole in your
longing lie of a heart,
And how does this picture live outside where
the world is too cruel.

For me the world is too cruel to answer to,
Acting upon our land but hers.
Our mother’s mother earth presents the
sky each morning,
When to only have the true ones isolated,
in deep sorrow and mourning.