chris868
02/22/06, 10:02 AM
Oh, August is ending and I’m nearing empty
The posh sun is setting but this time not so gently
Scattered in pieces is the meaning, also reeking
Of this recycled waste I’ve got to be leaving
Another routine relapse, filling the gaps
Writing the books, strumming the tabs
Adjectives packaged for your reactions
You asked when did this happen
But it’s not so sad now because
I lit the flames to get this burnt out
Thought it’d be great, catch my escape
Forget the dry and the drear that finally adhered
Glued to my left brain, slowly dissolving
What’s left worth resolving, the waste is evolving
And it's calling me out when I'm already doubting
The posh sun is setting but this time not so gently
Scattered in pieces is the meaning, also reeking
Of this recycled waste I’ve got to be leaving
Another routine relapse, filling the gaps
Writing the books, strumming the tabs
Adjectives packaged for your reactions
You asked when did this happen
But it’s not so sad now because
I lit the flames to get this burnt out
Thought it’d be great, catch my escape
Forget the dry and the drear that finally adhered
Glued to my left brain, slowly dissolving
What’s left worth resolving, the waste is evolving
And it's calling me out when I'm already doubting