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We're All Tired HereMy old clothes don't fit like they used to,
They hang loose like a noose in this broken picture frame around my neck.
I'm walking down this little road to this little diner
In this little town where dreams go to die, where the train of thought wrecks.
I'm standing in the middle of the paved path feeling the heat through the soles of my shoes
Because I'm so fucking cold while the sky in this little town sings the blues.
No one else sees the clues even though the notes are falling from the skies like they're falling in love with the ground.
This town is such a poetic sound.
A million poems hide under the roads
And in the basements of abandoned homes if anyone cares to listen,
But no one wants to listen to the sweet words caught on the tip of my tongue.
The food here leaves a sour taste, but breakfast is served all day
Because no one in this little town wakes up.
You can see the sleep in their eyes as they pass by,
But we're all tired here.
The waitress sighs. She says "Sit wherever you l
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More