An oldie from 2008, around the time I first started making words/lyrics into an actual structure.

Empty days, full of despair.
Change is coming my way, for all who cares.
My wishful thoughts. Fill the empty shelves.
With each new thought. An old one fails.

The end hour.
Of each passing day.
A shelf dissolves.
A new one is made.
Out of all my dreams.
Only a few come true.
Most are forgotten.
The remnants simply clues.

A brand new day.
For us to defeat.
A mental track is made.
For us to complete.
Of each passing night.
I get weak in the bones.
I guess its called life.
It’s time to grow old.

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