It’s not the time,
it’s the way you make it,
and I’m not seeming to be effected,
by what you stake and claim and the mess you make,
I’m independent, you can’t shake that,
It doesn’t mean anything that matters most,
Or I hold close,
It’s easy enough to repair,
What’s not there anymore,
You might be too late,
You’ve lost your place since you left it,
Open for occupation,
I won’t retrace my steps to embrace you back,
No returning to fill what you’ve been lacking,
I don’t expect it,
I know how you see it,
I don’t care how you play it.

I believed what I wanted to,
now I see what i've been missing,
every time I decide you've given up,
you appear to change your mind.
the repetition is growing tedious,
you can never set yourself straight,
there's nothing in the circumstances to fulfill,
after it's worn, it's starts to wear off,
you're not owning up to your worth,
the meaning's decreasing, you're losing your hold,
i'm finding appeal in everything you aren't.