Sweetheart,
I won’t thank you for coming, well
Yet, I’m not sorry for opening this door,
I have, not mislead you my darling,
Yet you keep coming back expecting more.
I’d hate to prevaricate, but my life is none of your business,
You see comfort and warmth, while all that resides here is erosion.
The life you’d like to build yourself has, no place in this existence.
You’d like, to take my last name, then
To try to build every path to end here,
Hoping, to live a life without blame,
A world where I soften your every fear.
I’d hate to prevaricate, but my life is none of your business,
You seek this perceived wealth, while we lay here in fragments.
The life you’d like to build for us has, no place in this existence.
From now, you’ll reclaim your hope, while
Your next obsession will keep you breathing,
And learn, how to move on and cope,
While I remain to erode in my circular grieving.
I’d hate to prevaricate, but my life is none of your business,
The past has simply not left, these ghosts will never leave here.
The life I’d like to build myself has, no right to an existence.
No right to an existence.