Honestly, what will become of me?
don't like reality,
It's way too clear to me.
But really life is dandy,
We are what we don't see.
Missed everything daydreaming.

Flames to dust.
Lovers to friends.
Why do all good things come to an end?

Traveling I only stop at exits.
Wondering if I'll stay,
Young and restless?
Living this way I stress less.
I want to pull away when the dream dies.
The pain sets in and I don't cry,
I only feel gravity and I wonder why?