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Dear Mother can you hear my footsteps?
I’m so close, I’m right there.
I’m almost home, so unprepared
To notice yet ignore how hard it is to be around you.
I’ve came clean, I’m washed out.
I’ve flooded the engine, stranded myself.
This home, native land they speak in words I can’t understand.
So when I’m standing on this street like I have a hundred times,
You don’t even glance at me you just pass me by.
I remember your face, from the moment I first saw you
I never looked away.
I’ll never forget how you looked that Saturday when you told me
We could never be together, and I could never change.
Mother, Mother is it you who’s calling?
Lights out, lay down,
We’ll sleep when we’re dead, that time is now.
But soft speak will drown out how I can’t do what’s right around you. Cold breeze, no coat, excuses used to take words from my throat. False hope confirmed.
Deceits a language I can’t hope to learn.
So when we’re standing on this street like we have a hundred times, We will celebrate the years you stalled and couldn't decide.
I used to believe that every person had a purpose
In this swirling ball of indecision that consumes us all.
I used to believe that every person had a person
They could always count on and not be scared of, one for everyone. So when I’m standing on this street like I have a hundred times,
Can I walk away and finally leave all of this behind?
3 окт 2024
