Now I write love letters addressed to heaven
Not a single day I don’t wish I didn’t have the wrong street number
In it I write my days at school and how I hope you’d drive me there
Just like the way you told me then
I’ll write in days when my hands don’t feel real
In days where I find my words isn’t worth to feel
In days where I just wish you were alive and well and here
In days where I remember your promises that now just hangs over my head like the gardens of Babylon
Now I speak as much as you did so I don’t feel so alone
And Lord, the stares of hope I sent to the sky more than I should, haunts my future
Now death looks after me like vultures
As I lay and as I stay
now I wish I was something newer
and not take your words for granted
Just wishing you’d told me sooner
So I wont feel so unwanted