There used to be peace in the silence
now, it’s static and unfinished lyrics that collide
there used to be trust in the promise of fate
now, it’s a cynical and sarcastic thought on the side.
I used to write poems four times a day,
about love and the feelings, and la la la,
and now i just can’t figure out what my heart wants,
and i can’t even say that it was anyone’s fault.
i just slept through the night of my northern lights,
i just, didn’t notice my shooting star as it flew by,
i just, jumped in the ocean, and let my boat float away,
thinking there’d be cruise ships if i just wait one more day…
oh time is a flirt and a hooker, at heart.
selling us moments that costs us our youth,
and wile, with certain moments come wisdom,
it hardly turns their false promises in the truth…
No Mr. Prince charming was not out there waiting,
no there was no love at first sight, or magic that night.
It wasn’t all about a game, and when you leave,
they won’t always follow, and it’s not always worth a fruitless fight.
So now, i take my magic beans and what’s left of my youth,
and try to haggle with time and wisdom to agree,
that while I may not deserve perfect or happily ever after,
I certainly have earned to have my silence filled with peace.