We're on a roller coaster.
We climb so high but then crash so low.
Blinded at every curve, I grasp onto you for safety.
But then we come to a complete stop; we lunge forward in our seats but inertia pulls us right back to the beginning.
This vicious cycle that we're on, will it ever end?
I'm growing sick of being thrashed around, love.
I'm ready to get off this ride.

Random dates.
Random times.
Useless words.
Stupid rhymes.

It's not cool being
less than you can be
so I urge you--
urge you--
to be happy.

Because there was a man
who was a clown
and he danced for the children
as they were being lead
to the gas chamber.
And it was 1943.
And it was
**** Controlled Germany.

The clown wept,
each time the lever
was pulled
and when the children
became silent.

To stop crying,
he told himself
that existence
is just random dates
and random times.
There was no meaning
in reason
and no order
in lines.

All he could do
was all he did know,
and that was to give
happiness
before they'd go.

I loved you, when you weren't looking.
I loved you, when your laugh went higher.
I loved you, when you smiled without realizing.
I loved you, when the anger took over.
I loved you, when you walked away.
I loved you, when you pushed me away.
I love you, now.