On the counter I found your necklace,
now there's another lace wrapping my neck,
The thought of you leaving me back.
On the counter I found your dust
Traveler, wanderer, memories of lust
And i wouldn't call it wanderlust.
On the counter I found a clock,
I wouldn't call it a nice time
Because I spent it waiting for the wrong rhyme.
On the counter I found my words,
Thoughts that were lost between the world
Swirled, whirled, curled.
On the counter I freed my thoughts
Not a feather, the leather choking my neck
The thought of you leaving me back.
