Te imagino,
Fumándote un cigarro,
Con los tatuajes marcados en el pecho
Al aire,
Mirándome de lejos,
Pensando en mí.

When the day’s sweat
Is swilled away by
Weeping gold sage
Spilling reasons
To stay
But instead
Sweet stone remnants
Crack and concave
Filling impermeable
Graves
Gone cold

Tell me,
What is left to hold?

We kinda live here and kinda don't.
Depends on point of view after all.
Is it half full or half empty?
Most of 'em think you did it,
the rest of 'em just don't care.
I was born on death row. I never
belonged where I was and
I was never where I belonged.
I was a square peg in her hole.
I always loved her but never me.