Seeps out of a cracked glass
And the moon won't take me home
And nor will the train.
Regret seeps into my pores
Like a wave that won't stop pouring
And the moon won't save me now.
The loss is more than the gain.
I'm fed up and drunk like a tramp
Slipping through the lines of a town
Flicking ash from high rises
Where I used to lay my head down.
No comments:
Post a Comment