I stand at night with a pen in my hand,
with my mind full of thoughts.
Not knowing what to write.
The sky is just blue,
and the stars are just bright.
I stand here at night with a pen in my hand,
and my heart on the floor,
thinking about what went wrong.
I start writing about the way you smile, but also the way you lie.
How you grab me by the waist and make my problems go away.
How the alcohol in your veins makes you forget who you are,
and destroys every single hope of mine.
I stand at night with a pen in my hand.
Knowing what to write,
knowing that the sky isn’t always blue,
and that the stars not always shine.
Knowing that you are not mine.