Our Lives Are Amiss

Hear the rhythmic beat,
Pounding on the city streets.
Feel the August breeze,
rush across your face.
The starry skies, the sweet goodbyes.
The dreams that we misplaced.

Skin your knees on the evergreens,
as you try to climb your way out of misery.
This life wasn’t meant for you.

Crying baby in momma’s arms,
Racing cars, three AM alarms.
She wasn’t meant for it.

And Daddy’s selling pixie dust to pay the rent.
Powder, white, pure as filthy innocence.
But he wasn’t meant, for it.

Take us back to simpler times,
Times with sweeter goodbyes.
When the butterflies kissed the skies.
When your life wasn’t a continuous cry.

We weren’t meant for this.
Our happiness is hiding,
Beneath the soot of our burning embers,
Of our disintegrating hope.

And if it takes a lifetime to cure,
This pain of the poor,
Then I shall lay down my years,
For you my love,
To hear,
The sweet melody,
Of what it’s like to be,
Free.