I spend my days now by the hundreds
And I remember the weeks when we lived by the tens
I’d be lying if I tell you I’m not sad
If my sadness is a well
It’d take light-years to crawl out
If not for the strongest stubbornness
resolve of not giving in or giving up I’d be
drowned long time now
I pondered, long and hard
Where it all gone awry
Why the road to hell
Was paved with so many good intentions
Toiling in bed till dawn and
All I could fathom was that
that was nobody’s fault
victims we both were
of the jokes of the crossing-stars
spun by a black moon
And I’d be lying if I tell you that
That’s not sad
