Now It’s The Finish Line That’s Fading Out

I guess I can be vulnerable for a while, and act out compassionately towards it.

I guess I can pretend to understand your pain, or how you deal with your sorrow.

But I don’t think I ever will, not for now at least.

I’ll be the first to admit, that I'm caught up in my own thoughts.

All my unnecessary complaints that I know are all bullshit, mean a lot to me now, and I'm trying to get them out.

But where will I put them? Misery loves company, but it’s also quite vain.

So I’ll have to stay away from you for now, and I'm sorry for the wait.

But I’ll make it up to you, I know I will.

Because once I'm done with spring cleaning, we’ll have beautiful summer days to just lie around, all night to just talk, and discuss how we’re going to slowly slip away

from all this shit we’re dealing with; all these people who are pointless.

Try to free ourselves from vanity and petty issues that stress us out.

We’ll try to strip off all our baggage, try to cut it loose from all its chains.

And we’ll be lighter than ever before, and we’ll be quicker on our feet, and it’ll be easier to get away without making a sound.

We’ll realize that all we ever needed was right next to us in this heat.

More like right beside me, as I try to keep my smile to a reasonable size, but it’s getting harder because it’s really getting wide.

You’re doing something right, I'm sure of it; I just can’t put my finger on it.