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Description
You're doing this all backwards I've been told.
But there can be no backwards if there is no forwards
and no path to walk if there is nothing to walk towards.
Once more I find myself slipping into the ever present mold
of the how do you say, the everyday, the constant way
of thought that would could should make me smile.
Some nights I plead for you to stay here with me a while
to keep the noise and violent out so that I can lay
here next to you in the not quite there yet silence.
We once spent our lives fighting to be sane
and asking what was the point of being right.
But the world has lost that smooth and halting cadence
and so we exist, once more among the rain
in constant weather systems of sound and light.