maybe i just feel to much.

you and I were two old and tortured souls repaired by a love of broken things. in a life, just some bodies growing old. no fear of the end, of anything. we got by, though we never needed much. a sliver of hope, no diamond rings. we got high, it was heaven it was hell. flying over them, with broken wings. our bones forever in stone. monuments of life. to dust, as everything must. we fade away in time. we're just ordinary people, you and me. time will turn us into statues, eventually.