It’s a Pity; live this city.
Love this life, full of strife.
Looking for a moment, any one that holds for more than a minute, but she only listens to the clown for thoughts that end in laughter.
Still it’s sad, that I’m mad.
Let it go; hope to grow.
The second time: I’m the fool, looking for another tool; but it’s a Pity, that I’m not so witty. I think of change and just act strange.
Now that I have a chance. We’ll be alone; I’ll show her what a man I’ve grown; but I come off, saying lines that come from mouths that aren’t mine.
And now I don’t know what to think… me and this girl aren’t so in sync.
The rest of the night is smiled away while I’m hoping it’ll be okay, but deep inside all I know is how to let nothing show, so I’ll keep doing my own best and go hoping that I’ll be blessed.
I spent the night; eyes were tight, thinking still of what a thrill. Well it really is a Pity, that me and her would be so pretty.
