I’d sweep you off your feet again,
but I’m only well versed in languish,
I’m not telling you when I’m walking away from this,
Disenchanted with the world I’ve missed these past two decades
Burning a perspective, burning this cage, burnt out and lacking unique
“You’re only as good as your setting,”
These smoke and mirrors have covered undesirables forever
Piecing the agony of others, staving off my inclinations
It’s a disease, the smile of others outweighing mine
I’m making amends with being second,
Inhabiting the traits I’ve been given.
No longer in fear of futures, Settling a score with past mistakes
One foot in front of the other,
Tracing the clouds with the eyes of others.
Unlearning habits, I’ll pass genuine on to anyone that cares to have it
It’s gone missing lately
Oh how quickly you forget attraction,
Hanging our heads to the ground until someone lifts us by the chin.
Stumbling on mistakes even the greatest of men make.
The thing about love is once it burgeons, without it you can’t survive.
I’m still surviving.
You’ll find poetry in mending through the night,
and I swear I’ll find something, anything to begin.
There’s light at the end of this tunnel,
I’d love to see it just once, just once.
but I’m only well versed in languish,
I’m not telling you when I’m walking away from this,
Disenchanted with the world I’ve missed these past two decades
Burning a perspective, burning this cage, burnt out and lacking unique
“You’re only as good as your setting,”
These smoke and mirrors have covered undesirables forever
Piecing the agony of others, staving off my inclinations
It’s a disease, the smile of others outweighing mine
I’m making amends with being second,
Inhabiting the traits I’ve been given.
No longer in fear of futures, Settling a score with past mistakes
One foot in front of the other,
Tracing the clouds with the eyes of others.
Unlearning habits, I’ll pass genuine on to anyone that cares to have it
It’s gone missing lately
Oh how quickly you forget attraction,
Hanging our heads to the ground until someone lifts us by the chin.
Stumbling on mistakes even the greatest of men make.
The thing about love is once it burgeons, without it you can’t survive.
I’m still surviving.
You’ll find poetry in mending through the night,
and I swear I’ll find something, anything to begin.
There’s light at the end of this tunnel,
I’d love to see it just once, just once.
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