Life
in all its destitute
is putting on a parachute'
cause it just doesn't feel like dying today
But I stay where I've always been -
defied against our every wind;
not because I love to win,
but because I've always been that way
Life
in
its regretted mind
disbelieves in leaving me behind;
but once again we surely find
that it does what it has to do
So maybe I'm out of mind,
or maybe I'm out of time,
or maybe both for staying in
He begged me once to come with him,
He begged me once as a friend
He begged me once to come with him,
but didn't ask again
Life in its enduring trait
survived again within its fate -
Seldom ever looking back with solemn tone
But convinced he glimpsed, a part of me
had thought he loved the heart of me -
just before he left me on my very own
He was jealous of the art of me -
of how I'm made- the heart of me,
with courage in my every broken bone
He survived to live disheartedly
while I've broken every part of me,
but still he wished that he had never gone
Life
in all its destitute
lived because a parachute
took away the life he had to own
