She skipped down the dirt road,
with her backpack in one hand.
Just a swayin to her own thoughts,
listening voices in her head.
Tables empty last Thanksgiving,
daddy left on Christmas Eve.
The door closed in her face,
for all opportunities.
No dreams will be accomplished,
I'm isolated from the world.
Disconnected aspirations,
nothing that I'm worth.
I've dug yet another deep deep hole,
of taunting memories.
Feeling your shadow close behind me,
gives me comfort like the spring.
These old yellow roses lay upon past fallen dreams.
I'm starting over,
I'm coming back.
Still waving poppies in one hand.
Strong newfounded views,
yet I'm sitting in the back pew.
I said it's been a long hard night,
what I really meant was life.
Because whatever you do,
it weakenss me.
But I still see your triumphs above.
You think its cool to be a traitor,
as the chase goes on and on.
