As I sit here in the sun
On a backyard's step
Cigarette in left hand
Blowing clouds from my
Rusty lungs
The end comes
And it doesn't justify a thing
The end is just
Pure m a d n e s s
To wake up one day
Whether the sun shows
Its face
Or the sky's all gray
And not feel
The love
The loss
The hopeless weight of
Wanting what can't be touched
Is a true sadness
The weak wrap themselves in
The end is madness
Because the beginning
Still exists
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 11:23 PM UTC
As I sit here in the sun
On a backyard's step
Cigarette in left hand
Blowing clouds from my
Rusty lungs
The end comes
And it doesn't justify a thing
The end is just
Pure m a d n e s s
To wake up one day
Whether the sun shows
Its face
Or the sky's all gray
And not feel
The love
The loss
The hopeless weight of
Wanting what can't be touched
Is a true sadness
The weak wrap themselves in
The end is madness
Because the beginning
Still exists
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