I was ready
Swallowing all anxiety like a pill
Armed with nothing but words
Consumed with mere prediction
Intoxicated with imagination
I was ready
Stepping on my demons to reach you
You're in my head, you're always in my head
Yet you're not in my sights, you've never been in my sights
Not since that night, that fateful night
I struggle to accept that my timing is once again errant, as I struggle to write for you better lines
I am armed with words, words for only your ears
But only air and dust greet me in the place that you should be
My words, you will never hear, but it's you that I crave to see
So who's the real loser here?
Clearly it's me
