What we would do

Its time, there’s no more excuses,
For to long, we’ve been selfish abusers,
We dabbled, with the limits of excess,
Like tragic’s, we thought nothing of the process,

But now the days, have turned into nights,
And where no longer, flying kites,

So let me rest, my feet are hurting,
For our meaning, where still searching,
We started this, for all the right reasons,
The long lost goal, disappeared with the seasons,

But now the days, have turned into nights,
And where no longer, flying kites,

And I miss you, the old not the new,
I miss you, and what we would do,
I miss you, you, you, you,

Its cold outside, to cold for me,
There’s no warmth here, just more sleet,
It’s cold inside, can’t utter a plea,
There’s no warmth here, frostbite on my feet,

But now the days, have turned into nights,
And where no longer, flying kites,

And I miss you, the old not the new,
I miss you, and what we would do,
I miss you, you, you, you,

And I miss you, the old not the new,
I miss you, and what we would do,
I miss you, you, you, you,

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