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tonight, the air is brittle, theres a brisk chill the stars are peircing the sky and isnt it nice, how the leaves change when they die, youd think they're in their prime but they're running outta time so look at your life, what have u done whats there to try try dying to live, rather than living to die and look at you and i we're all locked up inside, running to nowhere, but nowheres where we'll hide. Tomorrow we'll wake old and wrinkled wishing we had made the best and done all the things that in our old age our brittle bones wont let us "theres nothing here this town fucking sucks" do u even try? this town is what you make of it, so is your life "wheres something to do?" your locked up inside your running to nowhere but nowheres where youll hide. and i wish everymonth, could be septemeber all the fun things weve done, cant you remember? all the years past, theyll always last, in my scrapbook heart, it sure was a blast what have we become, i wish everymonth could be september this septembers not so prominent just a wasted month of a wasted year, we'll probably forget From Letras Mania