(0160) the fortunate kid

coming up to breathe, but not for long. i'll be gone soon - maybe tomorrow but probably not. i write the endings. you disobey them. my dreams don't remember because they don't have to. the oncoming traffic just disappeared. don't know why, but it did. cut in the past and i look to the sky. a glass full of love, but the pictures were still floating by. you walk alone, but you don't know. you don't know. this town is dying, and i'm doing just fine without anymore shadows to walk behind. the sun is glowing, and now it's almost time... to settle down; to close my eyes - so i don't end up going blind because the rest is all just another lie i tell myself. but at least i'm getting by. but at least i'm getting by.

they were sure to make the most out of every single day. a thousand empty caskets polished up to only lay under six feet of black dirt with a stone above to commemorate their souls. the answers don't always dictate what truths really are and aren't ready to be told. and i know the camera's looking, but i don't know if i should care. if the paintings can't be painted, then i'd rather not be here. hoping you might be the only friend i'll ever really need. there's too many future ghosts to meet; too many books to read. so i take another chance - always hoping for the best. a nickel here, a dollar there... i guess i should have guessed that anything will find a way if it has some room to grow. i know exactly how i got here, and i know exactly where i want to go.

so give me time, and we'll call a truce. i've got an idea if you can let it loose. and we'll find a back door; we'll slip right through as if the hands on a clock had never moved.