Running on empty,
That is how it feels this week,
No end is in sight.
The ground under me,
Feels cool and sure to my feet,
Standing on the grass.
The sun tried to hide,
Behind the blanket grey clouds,
Leaving just a bowl.
As complex as simple is.
Running on empty,
That is how it feels this week,
No end is in sight.
The ground under me,
Feels cool and sure to my feet,
Standing on the grass.
The sun tried to hide,
Behind the blanket grey clouds,
Leaving just a bowl.