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Tears to Trace
It means nothing to me,
Like you will believe
What I have to say again this time
The four and a half words you hear
Are advices arriving,
Seemingly familiar
Your bullets and swords fly
For I coyly deny
And blame the terrible weather
Still I have to sit and taste
A sour face
On a Sunday night
Next week too,
You would still be a tool
For someone I shouldnt know
All those years
Of myriad fears
With many left unknown
Tomorrow you might die,
But there is no guarantee
Not even an assurance
Allow me for the last time
To say these words
With no tears to trace
