These late summer nights I'm six drinks in and falling asleep Ill become a chalk line for all to see I have been told there's no hope I'm a story for broken hearts No sign of blessings no signs of light I'm starting to think i enjoy it countless hours of feeling nothing and empty or maybe im still searching for who i am an endless journey just searching its hard to pick your self up when the thoughts in your head come to you like breathing Its hard to pick your self up when the light you need is retreating Ill become a chalk line for all to see washed away from spring rains i hope summer finds me bury me under the fall leaves let me burn beneath winter trees. one day we will figure this out.