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In the twisting, I see myself |
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Pixelated. Construed. I am reaching out |
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For something, for me to hold on to |
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But I never do. Failing- I never will |
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Some things just do not exist |
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And some days I'll be the evoked of |
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The hope for a landing, for safety |
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But the synapse fires, exploding |
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And this is letting go |
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Life- this is a lesson that we don't sign up for |
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But we fatefully learn |
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And as I grow old |
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Time will break me apart |
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From stem to bough, and my heart to reason |
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I will become the dirt of which I began |
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Distracted by imperfection we are covered in rust |
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Hopeless and distant, we sway side to side |
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From season to season, we fall apart |
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So hold this in your hand, and don't let go |
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These are the things that we live for |
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Some things just do not exist |
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And some days I'll be the evoked of dissonant. |
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But we still try |
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Prudent through our brothers' eyes |
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Back at the start |
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We lost our direction |
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We are covered in rust |
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Hopeless and distant, we sway side to side |
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Distracted by imperfection |
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We fall apart |
