Lyrics

Here come the lucky ones
Guess it’s alright for some
A game of glass
To “win” at art
With Dad’s stabilities

But what of extractive grifts
Bottling magic tricks
To sell illusions
You can hold
And recreate at home

But still you are alone

Damn.

Who did you think you’d be?
And could you relate to me?
And does it matter?
Everything…
…grows older then it dies
So you can take the lot
I give it willingly
I hope it makes you happy
But I suspect it will not

It could be different
But it’s not.