BLACK HOLE

What are all these things that I do I I reach for the stars and the bottle and the pen, and I find myself thinking of you and all of the moments that passed and all the moments that should have lasted, and I'm falling down that damn black hole again opening the door looking to the find the end for a forever dead friend, and I'm fucking tired more than I have been before

There are 52 black holes, a dusty bible on a shelf, and a hole in my heart with empty promises that my stomach would never go blank and the bottle would always be complete, but here I sit, falling apart. My prayers have gone unanswered, and I no longer have any pull. Isn't that some shit? But guess what, lord, you crazy heathen, I won't quit.

I am no saint, but you sure as better not call me no sinner because I don't get on my knees like the others when I see the fear of the storm coming near and the end of the week coming closing. After all, there is more in my heart, and it isn't something that wasn't put in there by the book or a black hole. so do not not tell me i need i am wrong and need to praise your name and love and fall deep in that black hole