She feels, too dethatched, too afraid to sleep
I’m gone, she said.
Leaving you again.
In her head it's easier, easy now it seems.
She’s gone and buried deep under the snow
Somehow, you changed
How you were, how you used to be
Somehow, you lied
Like before, moderation heals
He needs, moderation needs his self control
He’s scared and tired
Unable to let go
hide his heart
Feeling futile feeling uncontrolled
Its gone
The transitory beauty of life.
Slowly hides himself away
Takes himself down every day
Slowly pulls his pride away
Transitory disarray
Moderation, Moderation.
