IRC-Galleria

Follow your instinct
It usually takes you home
Don't let these words tear you down (down)
You see me hanging by the end of the rope
I tell you...

Slow, I go
When the wait seems to be over
All that I know
Is that my life has become such a wait for you

I blame and run, sadly all too often
I dive into the day without your sympathy
I tend to try but lack the focus
Becoming a distant memory
What once was is quickly forgotten
All wrapped up inside
Delete all resemblance
I feel your relief