This obsession,
depression,
free falling in my tummy-
they call it love.
Absolution,
procrastination,
I can't decide whether to cry or laugh.
Are you for real?
Is this for real?
Is this how I'm supposed to feel?
I have no experience,
in matters of the heart.
I have no experience,
on how to let go, how to part.
They tell me everybody is pretentious; it's true,
I am too.
They tell me everybody lies; why, it's true,
I do too.
I lie for breakfast, lunch and dinner,
I don't care if I win, but everyone loves a winner.
The walrus in my heart is growing big,
The time has come, says he to me,
To talk of many things.
But I like to skirt awkward terrain,
I quite doubt my tolerance for pain;
It's easier to stay off solid ground, to float,
Oh, if only I weren't at the mercy of the boat.
Don't leave me stranded, pass me a hint -
If only I could control the wind.
Free falling through time and space,
All I was searching for was your face.
There's a sea of people,
And they never stop moving.
Constant flashes of light hit my face,
Feels like you left, without a trace.
But were you ever there?
Did I really cry?
Or is it just another lie?
I'm proficient with lies now,
I don't doubt their strength.
Yet sometimes I wonder,
Between teardrops and thunder,
If I should have been truthful,
And kind and unselfish.
It's okay, I won't think,
I'm good with stalling.
(What I'm better at is free falling.)