Some days I feel like I'm the only man
on a very small planet.
You walk for days, but you only go a few feet before you pass that same dead flower again.
The stars tissle and giggle as I try to lay down to sleep.
My back curves on the surface, and if I look real hard I can almost see my feet.
I'm not exactly sure what I'm trying to accomplish up here.
Serenity escaped me years ago.
Sollice I can have in a dark closet or a fully stocked wine cellar.
I'd kick a pebble to chase, but its rather apt to hit the back of my head.
Maybe I came out here to hold my breath
and petulantly wait for rescue.
