An eerie night, but quiet send

I sit alike at home and then, I look at what I have,

A steady job, a place to sit, a place to end pretend,

But truly though I repeat it over, as do so do they,

I guard because I’m like that type, worrying to give,

And when I line it up for them, I hope it truly works,

Why I take sometimes is confusing, and perhaps a lot of musing,

Sometimes though at about lunchtime, I have to play a part,

Because truly as a father’s son,

I know to come is to depart.

Why I have to sew this way,

Is yet not always mystery,

And in the beautiful nights alone,

I’m never truly; are we?

If I could say an honest prayer,

I know I need a lot. some cash, some friends, love or hope, and maybe something there;

It’s not like I remember this, when it comes that time,

But in the darkness of the night,

The morning is just fine – and right. And so I’ll say it over too, the people that I love could be strangers in a way, but I really have to play the game, sometimes it seems just so,

I get a laugh of the deepest depths,

Because I’m out so low,

And rounding out a time in peace,

Always brings some work,

Some jobs make money, some bring fame,

Some bring complicated things,

When some bring strange arguments and tensicity, I remember all the same – I cannot always teach you well,

I’m stuck going through this hell,

Because I spent tonight in good cheer and company, but read and heard the worst.

It’s not my way to know how to stop the play,

Which is why I cursed,

And so sorry I can be when I have nothing good to say,

I beg you please my fruitful god,

I need a good clear day.

As all the weather and breaks of glass,

Have cast a morrowed tune,

It takes about 10 hours to pause,

Before it all ensunes. As Miqoté would have me home tonight, were he still around,

My memory is great like yours, but brings daily pain abound. I suppose I could just blame the day, I had about last night,

My following is hard to tame, before I route it out. I don’t know why I ever bother, sourcrout and mount. Lol I think you know,

I’m having a great night out.

Alone and tired might be,

Fore thirty and I see,

That perfect time is always in, a perfect sort of way,

Just a song that’s sung like magic,

Someone else may pray. And hopefully my boss is right, that I am doing well,

When some jobs cost me so much to earn,

A borrowed time to learn.

Brother friend and sister too,

I suppose the day’s for you. So sadly I will must maybe stop, to do what you need to do.. my jobs not simple though it’s okay, I know my heart is through, with practicing for a play, I never fairly lose.

Cycle lich to wicked ditch, please death and taxes too, the songs of mercy and of hope, will be the through and through, if you had seen that all before, was that you already knew.

Watcher waiting contemplating – my best is all for you; whether I get it back I guess, is because I want – and wanting not is so darn hard, between each time I forgot…

That when I ramble on like this, is because something is amiss – the date the time the silver lining, and rhythms perfect wine.

I do not truly not, know why I can’t stop anything, before I get it, and that’s okay, sometimes maybe, it’s fine to pray.