Refused to find the stars aligned
In skies ripe for misleading;
Reserve them my contempt.
And worlds behind their obscured lights,
Confidence depleted
In hopes that you won't find
Us retreating.

The more I stalled,
Suburban sprawl kept creeping ever closer,
Forewarned though I had been.
A family's ware,
So unprepared to cope with their confinement.
It reminded me of the times
When I sit down and cry,
And hope you find someone who won't hurt you
As much as I know I do.

"Twenty-five years down the line," Means a hundred changing seasons:
Do you fear what might well pass?

It subsides, like how the better part of me dies.
I'm missing what the days have been stealing,
Staring up at the ceiling,
Waging war on a feeling.

Half-asleep machinery, the city's always driving;
Shouldn't you be too?
Motown, don't it hurt to know
Your best days are behind you?
But that midnight oil still burns.

It subsides, like how the better part of me dies
I'm missing what the days have been stealing,
Staring up at the ceiling,
Waging war on a feeling.

Share an evening treat on a roadside near:
I go to watch things disappear.
And we find time to wonder why things won't feel right.
(Without escape the hostage waits)

With drawn out wars on several fronts,
You might find one worth winning.
Do you fear what might well pass?

It subsides, like how the better part of me dies.
I'm missing what the days have been stealing,
Staring up at the ceiling.
Waging war on a feeling.
Waging war on a feeling.
Waging war on a feeling.