Solitary -- inescapable epitome
of these self-fulfilling prophecies
stains everything I touch
This fatal system error loop
I can't seem to debug...
...it'll be the end of me,
if I can't rise above
I'm dying to face the music
But I can't, when you have my ears covered
I'm restlessly awaiting your next release
But you're just hovering over the 'play' button
You're not through making your greatest hits...
...so I don't care anymore about the ones we've missed.
Just spin the record, already, baby
Crank up the volume to max....I want it all
Don't be afraid to let me lean in as I listen...
to the sad songs...to the angry songs
to the bitter songs...to all our trains that derailed...
...even to the tracks you think I'll hate.
Author: Stef L Schultz
When something isn't "enough" to be a song, and doesn't have a tune but it's still catchy, I call it POETRY, and it goes HERE. And there is not a *THING* you can do to stop me.