My heart is an apocalypse
Empty
Dead and strange
Occasional signs of life
Constantly in strife
Fighting for survival in conditions so bitter
Although living in these conditions does create a kind of grit only found in wool sweaters
And to be honest I wish It was getting better
But it's not to be frank
My future seems to be like a sarcophagus, dark and dank
I wish I could find it in myself to love as much as stone cold Steve Austin drank
But My heart is an apocalypse
I can taste the tears on my lips
As you walk away
I can't see any reason that you would stay
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 2:38 AM UTC
My heart is an apocalypse
Empty
Dead and strange
Occasional signs of life
Constantly in strife
Fighting for survival in conditions so bitter
Although living in these conditions does create a kind of grit only found in wool sweaters
And to be honest I wish It was getting better
But it's not to be frank
My future seems to be like a sarcophagus, dark and dank
I wish I could find it in myself to love as much as stone cold Steve Austin drank
But My heart is an apocalypse
I can taste the tears on my lips
As you walk away
I can't see any reason that you would stay
