Seeking Fresh Air
Searching I found it
The thing I seek
Good times, or bad times
I will never share it
While the drum is beating,
I’ve still got air.
There a bullet in my heart
That I just don’t see or care
I know what it means to be alone
I don’t care what they say
I don’t love you
You’re just a distraction that I put away
And save for the bad,
And squander for the good.
Girl… just leave.
I don’t love like you.