Departure - Carla Werner

Sit and talk to strangers

As though they’re friends

Waiting on company

As though your life depends

I’m afraid this madness

May be getting black

Engulfing you

And all you are in that

Hands to hold it

Hands to break

Don’t waste

Don’t waste

I know pride and little lies

Breed pseudo-nymphs, and suicides

Relieves the brightest star from bright

To fall to its end

I struggle to maintain the light

It helps me to remain

I pulled myself together

Now all you circus clowns!

Hands to hold it

Hands to break

Don’t waste

Don’t waste

Hands to hold it

Hands to break

Don’t waste

Don’t waste