Take back the city tonight. Take back the city and turn it in to dust. Turn it in to a picture. In to art.
Change the song and rant instead. Burn the letters, throw the rings and run.
You could be happy. Happier than before.
Take my hand and keep running
I can’t run as fast. But take it anyway.
We’ll run till we can’t feel our legs
and till our faces go numb with the cold.
We’ll run till our lips start to crack.
Choke back those tears, you silly child.
Don’t let them see you. or us.
Don’t call out his name either. They might hear you, and then they’ll take you back to him and their cruel ways.
And you won’t feel alive again.
You’ll be a box, sitting in the corner of a room on top of a dusty broken table.
You’ll be a dirty broken crumpled box with cobwebs.
Nobody wants that.