I sit on Sundays and think about the plans we made. I sit listening to Stevie Wonder thinking Ive been played. Spinning I'm confusion's fusion fusing you to the way of my sanity because I am INSANE without you. Finding remedies to fill the gap as I'm trapped because you didnt stay. Queit nights wet pillows dark rooms and desolate meadows I adjust to this poetic injustice. Feeling my heart sink and then blink but I feel everything and in-between the beats I'm dead a fed arresting my happiness and throwing the key away. My love is gone away...