well
aren't we
tiny lukewarm raindrops
pounded by an endless number
of tiny raindrops
collecting down a drain.
well
we all live for something
until the dream of death is gone
or the fear of anonymity is
too far reaching
this is how we carry on.
well
the threat of living dirty
and dying in the streets
is a pack of smokes
and a tattoo away
water's rushing at your feet.
you can't fight the direction you're in
when you're falling down a well
the water's cold
and dark
you wouldn't think this is hell.
but you say
i'm fine, i'm great
the only problems
are the ones
I create.
things are only well
swimming in the well
when you sink lower
and water pooling is your fate.
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