Life Leaks Out Of Me

It's been an uneventful summer,

with nothing much to call mine,

no wild marching bands, or one night stands

that last for months at a time.

The sunset was golden on May Day,

but the scene was stoic and dire,

I was handed the pearl, then I lost every girl

in the phoenix's ashes and fire.

My father never taught me wisdom,

but I pretend that he did for a while:

"Son if you play that game and come out the same,

then your love was as fake as your smile."

I don't know if her eyes are still diamonds,

or if her fingers are still cold and small,

but if I see her again, I'll know where she's been,

I doubt she'll have changed at all.

The crew is waltzing through the city,

holding hands in the soft city light,

but they've turned off their phones, and I'm still here alone,

left to kill off my thoughts from the night.

Ten years from now they'll be artists,

they won't have to worry about me,

then one day they'll look at my name on a book

and think "Man, how crazy were we."

Life leaks from my veins in the moonlight,

but I try not to let it bring me down;

Ideas sprout from me like plums from a tree

but they fall and then rot on the ground.

Well I'm sure there's a world past this window,

spinning 'round just like the North Star,

but it's ugly and faded and my soul is quite jaded

so there's no point in looking too far.