Achtung_Bebe
New Yorker
sitting in this dark empty room
where I can sense the essence of gloom
hearing nothing but the whir of a world yet to pause
I the only being in the still
If this doesnt' cause me to reflect
Then nothing will.
Hearing christmas bells chime in
Is it really time for the holiday to begin.
I suppose it is
Wouldn't you know...
It seems as though the joy was a no go.
I scratch my head,
Rid it of all disease,
Look up at the light far above,
In hopes to fight off the urge to sneeze,
It's the typical night; shades of boring degrees.
where I can sense the essence of gloom
hearing nothing but the whir of a world yet to pause
I the only being in the still
If this doesnt' cause me to reflect
Then nothing will.
Hearing christmas bells chime in
Is it really time for the holiday to begin.
I suppose it is
Wouldn't you know...
It seems as though the joy was a no go.
I scratch my head,
Rid it of all disease,
Look up at the light far above,
In hopes to fight off the urge to sneeze,
It's the typical night; shades of boring degrees.