When the storm, targets me as its cloud,
I try to run away from the rain.
Yet, somehow, it finds me hiding,
below the underpass, almost ready to faint.

It whirls me up in its wind of fiery,
I wish it would cut to the chase and just bury.

Catastrophic weather was born in my pain,
and rubs it in with every cut.
Everything around me is exploding in torture,
my only wish is to escape this rut.

It grinds me up in its high speeds shredder,
but maybe this end is for the better.

Only the lonely are the phonies of past memories,
and angry bees sting the knees of our enemies.
No longer are we allowed to walk and let be,
it's the fantasies that seem to be the killer of our integrity.
And only the realization of the truth can dilute the dispute,
between me and you and only I can lose from the pain I choose.
Please inform me of what's up, if I should shut-up,
if I should give up because I have fucked up.
It's okay, I've been down this road and always,
I have paid the price of the delay of my ways.
Don't have pity for me, try to envy me to be willing to be,
such an example of what not to do,
and how quick it took for the killing of me.

A sky so blue, yet the storm passes through.
A sky so gray, yet we continue the parade.
A sky so calm, yet there's murder in our palms.
A sky so far away, there's no way to predict the days.