Saturday, July 30, 2022

Recycled

RECYCLED (D A D G B E, capo 4)

Fuzzy, it’s almost funny. Some things really bug me (out).

Thinking, thinking of running. Some things never happen.

How can I believe anything now? Everything I thought I knew just sold its house.

Sitting in boxes, sitting in the driveway. There is nothing to catch me now.

 

Cloudy, I want to lie down. The sun falls but always finds its feet.

Shaking, it’s windy again. Taking everything back.

How can I believe anything to be true? The centre of my heart just split into two.

I’m sorry I don’t want to have dinner with either of you.

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