I come from real sad folk

My mother always likes to joke

That it gets worse before it gets any better

That I should grow up and learn to storm the weathers

So I take it as a means

To an end

And I wonder why it doesn’t steal her sleep

Like it does me.

We talk the way we do

After drinking a few

The words start falling from your mouth

Suddenly you seem to know everything you’re talking about

You tell me that I need to see

That life is never what we want it to be

That I should just learn how to  sleep

So I ask you why this doesn’t keep you up at night

In which you cleverly reply

Life is just a series of synapses connecting memories

That paint pictures of scenes

And we can choose  which ones we keep

So I take it as means to an End

As a cause for the purpose

You ask if I want to fool around this time

And I give a sour reply

I tell you I’ve been a mess for quite sometime

That I do this to feel alright

I can see in your eyes that it’s good-bye and not goodnight

I’m sure it’s what I deserve

But it’s hard on the nerves

I’m not quite sure if I’ve got much more

So I take it with a grain of salt

And accept all the faults

Hoping it will bring sleep and dreams for me

And for a moment it seems to be

That I can finally breathe

Because I know this won’t keep you up at night

Like it will me.