My fingers itch to write,
Twitch to find a type,
It's the only light,
Burning till the end of the night.

What's a doubt,
Without burnout,
That's enough,
I'll call the bluff.

Resting upon a ledge,
Legs hang over the edge,
And I will cling on,
This ****** I've been on.

What's a doubt,
Without burnout,
That's enough,
I'll call the bluff.

Never felt this good,
Tastes like maple wood,
Tense, thinking it'll rot,
But it's all that I've got.