Bottom step, there's nothing left
inside my dwelling thanks to your vacancy.
When was I not good enough?
I shuffle through Kodak moments in my head,
some are clear and some are becoming quite dead.
It's lonely sitting here, with no place to rest my head.
I would have put it on your shoulder, but you've changed
those plans. [and you didn't even ask me]
Will you come back?
The scar tissue of your goodbye's still lingers deep inside
and I don't approve of its residency.
So please reconsider throwing me against broken heart's wall
and come running back to me.
The wind and the leaves
can even detect that somethings not right.
[remember that night, December 1995?]
Give me a reason to go back inside.
Honorable mention
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