30 Minutes Late

Shiny headlights pulling into the complex garage
I look and pray that they belong to you
That you turned around and have realized your foolish conventional craze.
Bright lights emerging, heart skips with the wish of a Volvo.
One'd think I’d be wiser, oh one'd be fooled.
Return, hope, forgiveness exists only in my dreams
Faith, compassion, they're dead to you it seems.


Feet march up the door steps and 3 flights incite a quick look up
To see a blurry digits from the inside of a desperate, beaten heart.
Why did you leave, I told you I am true
I know of your fallacies and I have mine too.


This silence ought to be broken
There’s a blaring to be drowned
I can hear it in our voices
In our minds it will be found.

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