I left the howling winds and the prairies to find some kind of idea, am I full or am I empty? The lights pouring through my window dressing everything all up in gold and I don’t know what I’m doing I was raised to turn the other cheek and now all I’m left with is my own shame. Why do you always get to be the child? Your mama brought you up that way. You act as if you got the best of me, but we both know your acting small. Like a little girl with wide eyes and curls I didn’t know it was just a game.
I’ve watched the time melt on by now, dripping down on me again Why do you always get to be the child? We all want to play those foolish games. The rivers thawed but you’re still frozen, the words I write to you are still the same. It’s hard to watch you look away from me though I know I'm not to blame. In the notion of the disbelief that what will be will be. My name is something that my parents gave to me,īut lately I disassociate when it’s hollered out at me.Īnd I’ve been tangled up in the dichotomy, They might not see me for a while, for I’ve gone in a hurry. I often think I could hop on a plane and it all would go away,īut I'd be a fool to think my burdens are something I don't carry.įor I can’t leave them at the gate with the rest of my worries, Though I know there's nothing, nothing left for me there no more.Īt night I take to walking down lonely dead end roads I’ve been highballing through a playground zone So I took to drinking with the hopes of getting lost.įor when you’re always losing it’s hard to see your wins,
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