You and I, we always ran
To lounge on pearlescent grains of sand,
To stare at all the passerby,
Who in turn scorn you and I.
On our corner, we held up our signs
To warn of coming end times,
Soon to come for all of us
Perceived as superfluous.
We made up our own gods,
To even up the odds,
That we were stacked against
Being so incensed;
If you’re a light, then I’m a fuse
Depend on you for my abuse.
Push each other to our best-
Or our worst, **** all the rest.
Are you sick of it all yet?
Sick of all the cigarettes,
Sick of chasing little stars,
Of drowning in our little bars?
Are we losing it, our integrity?
Have we replaced sincerity?
Do we lie and stare at the skies
To think only of loss and lies?
I still recall that line you said
“To live we must forget the dead.”
I’m glad to see you haven’t lost your hope,
You and your little rope.
You’ll never be on the inside,
You were born to abide-
Some inherit repose,
We’re not them, and so it goes.
We have each other, though we fight and shout-
Love and hate, forget and blackout.
Inflict wounds that’ll never mend,
Wake up and do it all again.