Brimful of apathy

Running the race with ground glass in my eyes,
Crying alone at night as another part of me dies,
Watching shadows on the bedroom wall,
Trying to catch rainbows that were never there at all,
Wanting something that I know I'll never own,
The funeral of my adolescence, mourning alone.

Catching bullets in my teeth for a laugh and a joke,
Sneaking up to your room for a pill or a smoke,
Listening to your breathing and feeling you near,
All the plans that we made then, memories unclear,
The matrix of time lies tattered and torn,
Or the rebirth of yesterday not even born.

Adrenalin Architects drinking designer based dreams,
Laughing misfortunes on bankruptcy schemes,
Talking to nobody on cellular phones,
Like half hearted Vultures picking my bones,
I think I remember you, with long golden hair,
Then just for an instant I'm transported back there.

Back to the Beach with the silver white sand,
Or the mean streets of London, squeezing your hand,
So where did you end up in life my sweet one,
Have the tears that you cried then been burnt by the sun,
Did you think of me one time, broken and spent,
Or was it a dream that was written but not sent.

I've seen you a dozen times, catching a Train,
Or running for a late Bus in the Metropolis rain,
Sometimes you are everywhere, stuck in my past,
Only seen by the gifted ones, the image won't last,
I remember your eyes when you said, "I love you",
And how the magic had died in them as you told me
We were through.

Life is a race that we've already run, where the winners and
losers
Are both number one,
Where the winter breeze blows all of yesterday's dreams,
The tangled wire Tumbleweed is not what it seems,
But I'll never forget you my flaxen haired maid,
Because part of you lives in the metaphors we made.