I wanted to shut myself off from reality.
To escape from myself most definately.
But be careful you don't end up like me,
or bill collectors will sue you eventually.

Take it to the bridge,
That's where it's meant to be,
It's meant to be remembered,
By lowly lock and key.

It's meant to stay forever,
It should never be forgotten,
It was there the entire time,
Yourself, not nearly so often.

It stayed there through the cold,
It stayed there through the rain,
It meant to stay with you,
Yet you never walked that bridge again.

We all sat and pondered over the strange
phenomena of the world we live in,
like the fact that the moon sleeps upon
the surface of the earth each night,
but never returns to the same dwelling twice.

We asked the stars why they continue
to shine, even years after they've died,
and we wait in silence for their coveted
response, only to be let down once again.

What is a conversation without listening,
but waiting in line for your time to talk,
only to an audience involved in their next
comment. Leaving messages.

You only call me when it's raining out.
And I only answer when it's 2am.
And it's all good and fine in day dreams,
because we know the right things to say
and the right ways to respond, when
it's all in our heads.

But that's not how the world works,
so we stub on tongues on thoughtless
comments, as we fill the voids around us
with butchered "I love yous" and cold nights
back to back.