Wanting to scream
Wanting to cry
Head filled with dreams
Heart wants to die

Laying in bed
Unable to rise
Poisoning good with more stupid lies
It’s all so trivial
Paper cup crowds
The noise of the world
Isn’t so loud
Walking the streets
Heads down
Hands out
Nobody speaks
No laughter about
Grey rooftop city
With decaying smiles
From bed back to bed
Travelling miles
Circular life
Repetitive worlds
Same old routines
One’s come unfurled
He doesn’t fit in
He doesn’t want gold
He’d rather lay down
In the grass wet and cold
Cold is a feeling
He barely recalls
It existed one night
Or did it at all?