TRUCE
When I walk, down the street, I’m alone.
Then I wake, from my sleep, back at home.
Accompanied by courage on my hip,
In a pocket, full of fire, that I sip.
I can see resistance is no use,
But I don’t know why you don’t call a truce.
Headphones, hold the music, close to me.
Soundtrack, of the spiral, I could never see.
Wandering for ages, out of my way.
Until the pockets empty, or the song won’t play.
I can see resistance is no use,
But I don’t know why you don’t call a truce.
Dreaming, of the greatness, I’ll portray,
When I finally, end the great mess, I display.
Scratching, at the surface, of a life.
It’s a bubble, and I will burst this, and arrive.
I can see resistance is no use,
But I don’t know why you don’t call a truce.
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© 2017 Like Clockbroke Music, ASCAP
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