we wrote out a story in pen,
ink in the words we never meant.
young kids with no story, nothing to write,
so stupid and clueless, unaware of life.

i wrote songs about the misfortune,
and made it sound so sad,
maybe i stretch the truth,
lied to you, but i try the best i can.
to stick to the words i say,
you don’t hear them anyway.
falling fast into my deathbed,
with nothing left to say.

forever is a long time when you’re holding on,
when every word they say is closer to the fall.
forever is a long time when you don’t know where to go,
but forever means nothing if i can’t have it all.
© andrewmeyer