And quite a few worn out shoes
The hurt in my soles
Echoes the silence in my souls
And I'm left a life with no clues
Under my bed is a mess
And I hate to confess
I wish I knew what option to choose
You see there's independence
Which leaves feelings in abeyance
And you are left with little to bemuse.
And when one wishes for forever
she gets no such endeavor,
Yes I've got the Friday night blues
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