What do you do when the sad songs come true?
What comforting words do you sing?
Where do you turn when the roads all converge?
What hope does the morning light bring?
Who can you trust when their backs all are turned?
How far do you reach out your hand?
Do you cry? Beg? Beguile? Do you force a fake smile?
Are you left frozen there where you stand?
Where can you go when the doors have all closed?
Whose porch do you sink down onto
When the pillars you’ve leaned on collapse into dust,
And all that’s left standing is you?
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