My life's work it seems is just a number on my screen.
A rather pleasureless result, this lonely little pile of green.
Forever running like a poor hamster stuck within it's wheel.
I can't understand why they say nothing's what it may seem
Work refuses to leave my head though I called it a day.
Happiness forever gone to sleep no matter what I say
The music is gone the painting is dead
The poetry is no more
The pointlessness of the whole charade makes my head want to explode
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Every dream I ever dreamed seems cursed to mean nothing anymore
Every single breath I take feels like a very expensive loan
I sigh and grieve as I look at the house that could never be a home
Alcohol's once heavenly stupor holds less charm evermore
The desire to stay this course gets weaker by the day
The faint light at the end of the tunnel seems to fade further away
And for some weird but pertinent reason, I don't even care.
The laughs are hollow the smiles are fake even the tears aren't genuine anymore
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Against all odds the littlest thing
Brings joy back to the day
A little pink line on a plastic strip
Just takes my breath away
Chorus
It's real funny how happiness
Always hides in plain sight
And all it takes
Is an accident or a happy eye.
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