Lives of the Party

Picking up the pieces of my life
from the floor,
Searching for an open window or
an exit door,
This boulder on my shoulder it got
heavier and colder,
Til the day that I passover I’ll be
slowly rolling over.

They were all the life of the party and nothing and no one would change that.

I own everything except the lyrics above and in the character's descriptions.

©Neche Narcissist 2011