Alone, in a room full of people I should know
Alone, with the moon watching over the overthrow
I'm so scared and so tired and so weakened
And so there, I've cried about the whole weekend
I'm kind of wishing you would've happy birthday'd back into my life
In its finest itches, to burden my happy birthday is what I'd like
I can predict what you must be up to right this minute
And it's half an hour until my life is changed for the good
That's what I'm telling myself cause no one else is
That it's half an hour until my life is changed for the good
But I'm kind of wishing you would've happy birthday'd back into my life
In its finest itches, to burden my happy birthday is what I'd like
I'm kind of tempted to forget the presents and waste sacred time
In its last minutes, to burden my happy birthday, make me cry
YOU ARE READING
Songs I Write | VIII
PoetryHello! - Please don't steal. - If you do use any or anything, just give credit, thanks. - 20 years old, England.
