What can I say now, sitting on my words that are not quite masking?
Where can I go with these, when every turn makes me feel like never asking?
I don’t expect you to understand and I don’t want pity, I just want to feel like a man and not be alone in this internal dead end city.
Finding it hard to speak, without giving the sorrow away…
Jabs from your joy tweak, and I never really meant to say…
How bad it is here now, no life here on this barren rock…
I will fight through somehow, but I did lose it all with this madness on the clock?
-Thomas Spychalski
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