Winter fears, are feeling strange
Outside this fortress, are clouds and rain
Happy homes made of sinking sand
Block out the skyline, burn up the land
Lonely days are locked within these walls
Waste away and hope somebody calls
But nobody calls
Monday’s poison, clouds Sunday’s mind
Falling forward, to spring behind
Painted ceilings begin to peel
Push further down so you don’t feel
Running in circles to catch what’s ahead
Having no time to know where we’ve been lead
And where have we been lead?