Well I got high
Your voice saying goodbye
Oh we did try
But it’s the last time
My hearts affairs
Too much repair
Neither of us deserve despair
So I talked to the moon and the stars at night
You spoke with the clouds and the birds in light
They told us its time to go
So lets pack up our things and grow
Apart
But for better
Girl this is my last
My last letter
To you
I’m sorry
But baby just don’t worry
Because everything will be alright
In tomorrow’s morning light
So leave this shallow, lifeless man
Find a home and a guy who can
Treat you like he gives a damn
What you think
So lets pack up our things and grow
Apart
But for better
Girl this is my last
My last letter
To you
I’m sorry
But baby just don’t worry
Because everything will be alright
In tomorrow’s morning light
What do you do when you have a choice of keeping the essence of what your entire life is, or who your entire life is about? Well. Nothing. You don’t have anything to do. You don’t wanna lose someone so amazing, so beautiful, so superb, so stunning, so individual. But you can’t lose you. What makes you who you are. What your life is about and based around. Without who I am I don’t know who I am. I don’t know who I am now. And I don’t know who I was before I found out what the essence of my life is. Maybe the ‘essence of my life’ is merely to have no essence. To be there for things. Plants, animals, people. But nothing for me. Maybe the purpose of my being is to live totally unfulfilled. But if it is. What do I choose? What do I do? Who do I talk to when she was the only one who understood. What do I run to when the core of my mind is causing it all. What do I do? Well I sit down. I sit and I type. I type my thoughts. Maybe long maybe short but I type. Secretly I hope she finds them. What she’ll do if she does and if she reads them, hell if I know. But I secretly hope she does and I also hope something changes. She changes something because of reading it. Because I’m stuck. I can’t do anything. I don’t know anything. I am nothing. Nothing. Just a cosmic spec of dust. I mean nothing in the role of anything. Just energy. That’s been passed on a million times, and will be passed on a million more. Nothing really matters. Anyone can see. Nothing really matters, to me.
