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End of Summer

End of Summer

 

Something in that expression 

I can't recognize 

Others in the photo

Go undefined

 

You tell me we were lovers

During wartime 

But I don't remember

On whose side

 

These hands now 

Won't open jam

My every cell

Craves silence

 

But the TV's on

Battery's dead

I know too well 

What they'll do next

 

Outside it's different 

In here it's the same 

I just keep vibrating

With my old ticking brain

 

It was once wound tight

lost a few springs

Just waiting for that

Bell to chime

 

While I ponder 

The question

Without reply

Who the fuck 

Was I?

 

◄ Sunga is here

Fucking Kids ►

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