I wrote some letters on a photograph with numbers too blurred to recall.
Every drunken word, a memory. Written on that bathroom stall.
Some things were never meant to be permanent. Those knotted words I said, I scribbled with the pen. When I think about how it was all crossed out. It brought me to the ground. Those seconds counting down.
The place fell silent as the lights came on. Then smoke cleared to a dusty haze. Trying so hard to maintain my act. I stumbled out to great dismay.
Some things were never meant to be permanent. Those knotted words I said, I scribbled with the pen. When the road is clear, it’s your voice I hear. At two o’clock my dear. I’ll wait another year.
Some things were never meant to be permanent. Those knotted words I said, I scribbled with the pen. I reached out for your hand, but then I got ignored. You headed for the door, I headed for the floor.
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