I don't know what time it is
Hell, I don't even know what month is it
My guitar stands dusty beside my bed
Oh, my bed, my pillows, my coffin
I drag the phone with me in every
room I go, I don't know why
Cause the only ringing I hear is
the one in my ears. Guess this is my life
My favourite statue is one of a giraffe
It stands dusty on the living room table
If you could see me now you'd agree
I've seen better days, but you're not able
It's getting colder in here, I guess the
weather is turning, changing as time goes by
God I wish I was changing like everything
else does, change me into someone I'll like
A photo album stands dusty on my shelf
Couldn't remember the pictures inside if I wanted to
Memories are fleeting like love and breathing
And they don't show you how to be a better you
The bills are piling up and soon
they too will become dusty like all of my possesions
When will I clean up my life, when will it
all make sense? Is this only my perception?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem