Painting of a Scene
John Samaras
The situations I made up in my head
They will do me in; they'll slowly be my death
It takes a lot to dream; it takes more to wake
Revealing all the screams I kept beneath my breath
Broken branches paint a pleasant change of scene
Eyes are drowning in a washed out sea of teeth
Shadows closing in; the sun just stays in place
Traces leave a mark and hope to be erased
You fall for it yet you can't stand it
The ego's bouncing back shedding identity
Until all that's left is a sense of entropy
You fall for it yet you can't stand it
