I wake up
To realise it's not the same
Butterflies are gone
Birds don't sing anymore
And ego won't take the blame
I wake up
Hoping to move on from yesterday
Guilt keeps pulling back
The demons tend to attack
And the bliss doesn't want to stay
I wake up
To write another chapter of destiny
Looking for the ink that stays
To scribble letters that won't fade
And I prepare to continue the journey
I wake up
With hopes and aspirations high
The departed will return
With forgiveness and no stern
And I'll wait to see the time fly.
I wake up
To realise it's not the same
Butterflies are gone
Birds don't sing anymore
And ego won't take the blame
I wake up
Hoping to move on from yesterday
Guilt keeps pulling back
The demons tend to attack
And the bliss doesn't want to stay
I wake up
To write another chapter of destiny
Looking for the ink that stays
To scribble letters that won't fade
And I prepare to continue the journey
I wake up
With hopes and aspirations high
The departed will return
With forgiveness and no stern
And I'll wait to see the time fly.
I wake up
To realise it's not the same
Butterflies are gone
Birds don't sing anymore
And ego won't take the blame
I wake up
Hoping to move on from yesterday
Guilt keeps pulling back
The demons tend to attack
And the bliss doesn't want to stay
I wake up
To write another chapter of destiny
Looking for the ink that stays
To scribble letters that won't fade
And I prepare to continue the journey
I wake up
With hopes and aspirations high
The departed will return
With forgiveness and no stern
And I'll wait to see the time fly.
Some days are as sweet as your
lips on mine.
Others just sting like the thorns
on the vine.
They encircle my heart, piercing,
deep, in a gouging of flesh.
Pain and pleasure, no separation,
so tightly enmeshed.
I take what I can from the lost and
the found.
The sweet torture of life, is a curse,
in which blessings abound.
The strings of love are hard
to see.
They make us dance, poor
fools are we.
Wrap our hearts like gifts
to give.
Pulling on the strings to
live.
Making puppets of us
all.
They cut the strings and
then we fall.