My stomach is grumbling
Hungry for the life it's been denied
High octane, phony aggression
Blasting into my already pounding ears
I stare into the oppressive sunlight
Thinking about my later explanations
It's always draining and liberating
To let my insides out for a while
The timing wasn't right, I hear
The timing, the timing
My time is precious and fleeting
All of it can be gone in a moment of weakness
My love is still here
It's the objects that are missing
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