If life is a game
And I, a player,
Wouldn’t I know the rules?
Wouldn’t the goal be defined?
This isn’t fun anymore.
This doesn’t feel fun anymore.
The chance and folly,
The stacked deck and two faced coins,
They’re laughing,
Laughing
At the house of cards I’ve built.
The wind rests
Every day and night,
But your breath is heavy
And acrid.