Crying thunderstorms in our dreams,
Change coming but it seems late while every hour adds to a pile of mistakes and we don’t want any social interactions for twenty-four hours straight,
Tired and empty, weary and dizzy, frustrated without an exact cause,
We’re looking around for sense in these fierce wrecks, more questions than answers while out of breath, obscurity without any masks, crying in our dreams, trying not to complain, decipher what this all means.
Sitting on a wooden bench outside in pouring rain feeling cold and uncertain wishing for a warm bed and a clear mind,
Crying yeah sobbing then placing warm tears back inside, ain’t got time to process perceived losses,
Tell us things will change, tell us we won’t walk afraid forever.