Pictures of Skyla
George Holman
It's not that hard being the trying man
But it is when time starts dying
You may think you are as beautiful as the stars and red skies
The black monster that comes to stare at me sleep every night
It's hard to be the happy man when things rot you
And why does noone feel the same as me?
I've existed upon black roses
I never hurt anyone
So I'll hurt myself instead
You can save my life if you want to
And I can save yours too
And I'll glide
And I'll glide high high
(I'm looking for an escape between the parallels of sleep and dying)
The future's one I hope to count on
But not knowing brings me down
All the literature couldn't replace the fact I'll die alone
How can you be the monster then if you're the one that's in the bed lying?
