While you were crying in the front seat of your car I sat alone. I was reminded how life has passed me by. As I wrote with pain stained finger tips I used the streetlights to find some reason on a page, through the lens of a camera that knows what I've seen more than I ever have. I am dead behind these bloodshot eyes. This heart of mine has become blind.
I guess these stars of mine have died. I guess these stars of mine have faded in these city lights.