• With the faces that have passed
    only one seems to have last .

    We embraced what we have
    yet, like a dove flying by my side,
    you drift away and reside
    next to someone else's side
    in the end you come back,
    and with each time it seems we're not going to last.

    You've developed habitual habits.

    Your a wandering petal in the air
    that comes and goes and leaves behind despair.

    When you fly away, will you remember our times,
    nights we shared and luaghs we beared.

    Know that depression will be my bestest friend