Daybreak
There’s no place for me to vent this meaningless heartache of mine.And so do they visit upon us, meaningless day after meaningless day.I’d like to leave for somewhere else, but only if I can stay where I am.My days begin with the rising moon, and end when the sun’s overhead.
It’s always the littlest things that fill me with the most pride.I just want to get my words out of my throat before they take on any meaning.I thought about giving up, but that’s the only thing that I can’t do..My days begin with the rising moon, and end when the sun’s overhead.
As hope shall turn into the deepest despair, despair shall inevitably give way to hope.With the image of the world as it ends inside my mind, it’ll be easy for me to fall asleep tonight.
From the sky to the east shines the blinding light you shout obscenities at.From the sky to the west comes the voice of one wishing only for brighter days.
I can make out neither the shape nor the color of the sketch I jotted down.If you make a circle out of your ideals, you won’t understand what lies beyond.I crammed my hopes and dreams into the back of my overflowing closet.My days begin with the rising moon, and end when the sun’s overhead.
As hope shall turn into the deepest despair, despair shall inevitably give way to hope.With the image of the world as it ends inside my mind, it’ll be easy for me to fall asleep tonight.
Young boys dash all around the local shopping center.They run off to wherever they please, no hesitation heard in their footsteps.Every single tomorrow is just another hope for us.I remember how we used to think that we would be able to go wherever.
There’s no place for me to vent this meaningless heartache of mine.And so do they visit upon us, meaningless day after meaningless day.Here I am, singing once again. Here’s the Earth, spinning once again.There’s no purpose, no greater reason.
I carry around with me this hole-filled heart of mine.I’m stuck with it until the bitter end.Outside the open window, the town changes colors.
From the sky to the east shines the blinding light you shout obscenities at.From the sky to the west comes the voice of one wishing only for brighter days.
Ask the time of a man who’s watch moves a bit too fast, and you’ll doubt the answer whether it’s right or wrong.I’ll weigh isolation and empathy on the scales and try to save whatever piece of me is left.Living to survive isn’t that hard after all, at least no more than digging up a dry water vein.No matter how many times we repeat it all, it’s always different.
The morning will come. The morning will come.