thursday night

You play guitar and it sounds like it used to

But it’s not the same 

You play your records and you sit on your bed

And nothing is the same

You’re looking in the shadows for the light 

It weeps behind you as you scramble in the darkness of your own shadow

And it is not enough

You want to believe that it is enough

You want her to be enough

You just want to be enough 

And you want to believe so bad 

But your chest aches from the effort of it

And faith turns to dust in the face of the world

And you wonder what else is made of dust 

And wonder how long till you are

You try to remember the last time you weren’t lost

But the guitar sounds like rain on the roof

And the record sound prickles the air

And you can’t remember so you focus on these things

And so it goes

And goes

And goes

Until suddenly it doesn't

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