Time and time again,
I tell myself I’m lucky,
and i guess I am.
The midnight hour comes,
and darkness invades the sky,
and the moon’s lonely.
The trouble with truth,
is that few want to hear it,
nor can they speak it.
As complex as simple is.
Time and time again,
I tell myself I’m lucky,
and i guess I am.
The midnight hour comes,
and darkness invades the sky,
and the moon’s lonely.
The trouble with truth,
is that few want to hear it,
nor can they speak it.