Sometimes The Embers Are Better Then The Campfire
Sometimes The Embers Are Better Then The Campfire
And now you find yourself spending your days in the cold comfort of a rocking chair, the fear of getting old that once haunted the days of your youth has grabbed your throat now and you don't care, as the timbre of your voice shakes before each word, you're not quite the man you use to be.
And you look in envy, at the kids kicking up storms of orange, you dream about joining them, a man still walking on the skin of the earth not this moth eaten relic its come to be, you just sit back in your rocking chair as the smoke masks your face, wondering where they'll end up on the road down the line.
And you sit back, and just watch in the fading light, and think to yourself, maybe sometimes the embers are better than the campfire,
Yeah, sometimes.
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You're so evil and I'm so good,
I'll make it up to you someday.
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