let me bethe setting sun puts out its cigarette the lake i drink from loses its shine the moon comes up behind me and never says, "hello" i try to make conversation but the stars say nolet me be
they said, "the moon is too pretty for you," "and we're too pure," "we can make conversation" "but you're pain means nothing to us" "we shine not for you but for the beauty of tommorow," "it'll make someones day, but never yours" "...never yours"
a word i never get used to a pain that never heals as i kook at your picture then look in the mirror i see con
--
America is young and unfinished.
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