Can’t Make Sense of It

It is not her. It is not me. It is not that we disagree. It is that we just both live free and that’s how we will always be.

It is not me. It is not you. ‘Cause this is what we’ll always do. We’ll always chase a heart thats true and love the ones that we’re into.

I don’t know why. You don’t know why. We’ll do this ‘till the day we die. We’ll do this ‘till the day we die unless somehow we stop our mind.

Stop it from the world, you see. Because we’re all, at times, lonely. Because at times we sit and need to feel like “me” can become “we”.

But then we change. Why do we change? Why do we need to rearrange? Why do we feel the need to make what should feel normal now feel strange?

I do not know. I hate it, though. I hate that we all reap what everybody knows is sowed.

It’s all the same. It’s just a game. It’s just a game that we all play. And though we play we all will say we hate the day that it was made.

That the ones who wrote the rules were nothing more than tired fools but still, when that old whistle blows, we fall in line; that’s how it goes.

This game, you will not ever get.

Admit…you can’t make sense of it.


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