dear old friend, its me again
its going to be us for this time again
and i promise this time i have much more to write to you
and i promise this time i have much more anger for you
i want to believe you want to change
but i cant believe in any of that. its strange
i still read the things you speak
and its so strange but i know they arent for me
theres always someone else when theyre never there
when theyre never there i can never be there
you see its not just me its just as much you
and there is no us without u
i am just as torn up as i know i am
and youll tell me youre torn up like i am
well i dont think you know what its like being lied to
after a person tells you you are finite and omega
well you were finite and alpha
somewhere i believe i faultered though you wont tell me
ill just have to take my services and eyes elsewhere
somewhere a bunkhouse for the broken and lonesome
somewhere a dusty campground for the vile and vicious
i hate to be the paul bearer to a funeral of one
and i hate to be the priest that gives only a eulogy
someone has to say it and i know its not you
the more this goes on the more i know in my head and heart
im saying goodbye to you.
more and more each day its only growing
and the distance isnt going to kill me this time like before.