The moon has phases In and out of the same cycle Always orchestrating a reprisal Over a number of days
I have phases, too Yet they seem more like mazes, who Don’t know where they lead to. Unlike the moon, Who is settled in his ways, I bounce back and forth in this pinball machine, Forwards, backwards, sideways, Through different replays with the same ending: heartbreak.
I never know when or where they’ll start, But I’m always the one with the broken heart. The phases come and go as they please, And always end up blaming me.