March is a month of waiting
For something after March.

Yellow is a colour of craziness,
Blue is a colour of sky,
I look in my window, and oh my,
I only see yellow, very yellow sky.

In this world, made out of buildings in plastic and stone,
There's nothing to complain about
And even less to atone.

Your sexuality is spread all around the room,
Reflecting in your seemingly colds looks,
In your casual words that aren't true,
That's like an invisible wall
That I'm going to softly run through.

When I close my eyes,
I see myself with the closed eyes.
It's somehow defying the purpose.

Do you see what I mean?
- No, I can only hear it.

You get what you get,
You deserve what you deserve,
Any correlation between both is constantly eaten away by the growing entropy.