We sell our souls for money,
We trade our hearts for love,
Then chase our passions through the crowds
We grow impatient of —
We store up hopes in dreaming,
We scar ourselves in rue,
Then wonder at the senselessness,
Because, that’s what
We do
We sell our souls for money,
We trade our hearts for love,
Then chase our passions through the crowds
We grow impatient of —
We store up hopes in dreaming,
We scar ourselves in rue,
Then wonder at the senselessness,
Because, that’s what
We do
Days of silence and now these poems; where oh where are these thoughts coming from?
Oh, just me. I work a regular job, and store up thoughts for the weekends.
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