It's 2 o'clock
The town is closed and I'm alone
With nothing but thoughts and a pen.
Hopefully, tonight is the night I get them out.
I'm writing by street light.
It's not the same as candle, but it works.
I suppose that's how it goes,
It's never better, but it's always different.
The car that just passed is full of teenagers
Living the dream before adulthood sets in.
One last party, one last joint, one last beer,
Before one more job, one more bill, one more payment.
They don't know what's going to happen,
And I miss that.
I'm pretty sure of how my life is going to go.
Job, girl, girlfriend, bills, wife, kids, death.
It's scary how we can plot the next
40-50 years of your lives in seven words.
The varibles may change but the formula,
Usually stays the same.
I guess that'll be it for now.
The time is right
The sky is bright and I'm late for work.