Eight Days a Week

Today is a suitable day to leave
every moment at this point
that could lead to self destruction.
Today tastes like a cold southern drink.
It's growing harder
every time I look around and
you are overland out of this game.
If you lose you will pay too much
before starting a new match.
Today comes crashing in my head
milions of remote forgotten thoughts
everything I should have taken inside me.
If today were the better day with you,
but I have missed you
and I can't turn back in time, I'm an empty room.
Where can I find you?
You hold me together,
I mean just to be together.
Tell me the stories of your own lifetime
that you've written today.
Wait for me, just wait for me