Holiday

It's getting late.

It all just wanes & pales & fades anyway if we want it too much.

And what a shame

If all there is is all that's gone away.

There's nothing left here for us.

Deadlight holiday,

Killing time to make us stay,

Hollow promises of yesterday.

On & on the music plays,

Memories in paraphrase.

Falling past my window like the morning rain.

It's all the same.

So many words remaining.

Always too late,

It never seems worth taking.

And all the days,

And all the nights lost sleeping.

And in the end,

The secret not worth keeping.

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