Rhymes

I can write a million songs reflecting on my thoughts

I can’t make a breakthrough if all these songs are yours

Every last confession has been trampled on the floor

Say you didn’t realize but I don’t care any more

Does it make me wise, writing all these rhymes about our life

Does it make me wise?

Questions need an answer, but a writer needs a source

My anticipation is a never-ending curse

I keep thinking that you’re doing life like we rehearsed,

Saying that you love me is a hollow choice of words

You were all,

All and more

I’ll never know a love so gold and pure

Let me fall,

I would fall

To know you never loved me much at all

And does it make me wise if I’m still yours?

Was it all the things, all the things we’d say?

All the talk without the game

What it all the things, all the things at stake?

All the unsupported claims

You have got a good thing going, take it ‘til the end

With some kind of strategy we’ll find ourselves again

You have got a good thing going, take it ‘til the end.