Travelin’ aimless at the speed
Of lost love, easy come easy go.
Long gone is pride being afraid
Of losing you.
Wearing my heart on my sleeve in a sensitive way,
lends itself to having my heart broken and perpetually on the mend.
Oh well back to the drawing board with my crayons and my
I’ll go drifting in the abyss
as love and I just keep missing each other.
I’m so unsuccessfully into you,
I’m usually the last to know.
By the time the curtains are drawn, you’ve moved on.
I’m left picking up the pieces.
At least I have the routine down to a science.
I’m a natural at it. Yes, I’m good at it.
Lost soul never finding a home!