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Late Nite Reading
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Too Cliche To Say
I never want to start it,
but they gave up too late,
they're stuck in this cycle,
of hoping and hate.
Started to believe that,
it's finally over and done,
but they look to the skyline,
knowing it's just begun.
Here they go again,
afraid to break free,
if they're not running in circles
so where will they be?
But it never happened,
she can't forget,
she's copacetic,
to the point of regret...
(...to the point of)
I regret what I've written,
everything sounds the same,
these feelings are so typical
and too cliche to say
All the things that I want to do,
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everything single day,
they're stupid and they're immature,
and too cliche to say.
These lonely roads wind,
and they can't roam any farther,
feeling the strings pulling,
to make it harder
Fighting and so stubborn,
and trying to believe,
how strange it is the concept,
how freedom can be free,
Sometimes it's overwhelming,
I fear that I will down
in this sea of anxiety,
before I come around.
But it never happened,
she can't forget,
she's copacetic,
to the point of regret.
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