This
Might be an entire year of bitter writing
If I can't get over myself, what do I have.
That wasn't a question.
Memories float in and out of existence.
While every song I love plays on high.
Without capability of telling lies,
I'm forced into a childhood I never lived
But always loved.
And I'll go on for days.
Pen and paper aren't my ways.
I'm out of conventional trials and my best friends in denial.
Maybe it's all in my head
Beyond what's alive and dead.

I watch everything up and down.
Don't remember which ways mean a frown.
I'll make your day if you'd both let me.
Am I allowed to make the choices all inside.
I can't pretend it doesn't exist. But I'll tell the boy next door about it.

He listens when I want to cry.
Forgetting about the life I gave him in lies.
He's still all for my life
And I forget his strife
Everytime I remember he exists.

I can write for the rest of my time.
But nothing represents another without rhyme.
And I can drink again
Watch your friend eat everything.
****.
I love this song.

Now nothing can go wrong
And I'll write all I say
Miss you

Nothing wrong with two ways.
Remember all the good days.

I know you don't forget my pockets.
Which represents all the lockets
Of the songs and hair I showed you
But follows a rhythm unrelated to my life

But my life is boring.
Follow the next guy

And sway to the rhythm of your own song
As I've lost track of my track and that's okay.