Ever since I put
that knife to skin,
I can't stop thinkin' 'bout
how you've been.
No sense now in desecration.
Only gotta live and love,
but I'm havin' trouble with inspiration.
Seems she's gone, gone for good.
Yeah, I think she left the neighborhood.

My love at times
seems infinite.
And when I rhyme
she's right in it.
It seems, in time,
fires always get lit.

So now I'm truckin' along
through empty streets.
Tryin' to right all my wrongs
and rest my aching feet.
They moved so fast, now
I don't know how.
All I'm thinkin' 'bout
is where I'll show.