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Every good man has their weakness.
Truths they hide and lies they confess.
Stealing liberties with Godless needs in their hearts.
I feel shame creeping in as everything falls apart.

You magnetic little poem.
It was always us against them.
But now you’re questioning familiar things all the time.
Boredom sold you some distraction from your troubled mind.

So we’ll stumble on and hope that we’ll find,
It’s the start and not the end of the line.
I won’t talk as if it’s over yet.
I won’t talk as if it’s over yet.

So I guard these listless waters.
Dwell on all that love has taught us.
In the end I guess the things I’ll miss when you’re gone,
Are the very same that I would blame when we went wrong.

So we’ll stumble on and hope that we’ll find,
It’s the start and not the end of the line.
I won’t talk as if it’s over yet.
I won’t talk as if it’s over yet.

We misuse love, leave it fallow.
Walk the valley of the shadow.

Our endeavors, often fruitless.
Quiet patience do not leave us.

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