The trees are dead
The clouds are here, hiding our sadden faces
And out my window, the same little girl
Sitting on the ground pleading to god
But the angels are gone and the demons are here
And the little girl lays there on the ground without a clue
As her father takes her arm and drags her in the house
The wind blows and the demons follow; No more little girl.
And out my window the same old man walking down the street
Face covered , hands in pockets
Hiding from the world and staring at his feet
Slowly looking up with a pale abandoned face
But he keeps on walking in his worn out clothes
This tired old man clearly ready to die;
Disappears into the wandering fog
Now the wind is blowing trash in the air
This once beautiful place looks disgusting to me
And the 30 year old man who cuts his wrist
Drives right by with a look in his face;
That nobody knows about
The atmosphere outside so gloomy and damp
This world today is continuously crying
And out my window the same old everything,
The same old thoughts, the same old trees
And the same old people sitting there waiting to die
