My sandal's strap ripped
My jeans have holes in them
Not the fashionable holes but the holes of wear
My knuckles are scraped from banging the walls while I sleep
My glassed are held together at the bridge by tape and hope
My life is held together by faith and hope
The faith is drying and the hope is peeling
In creeps anger and dissatisfaction
Once weapons to use to push me forward
They are turned against me and push me way down in the hole
Luck fades with time as more black cats enter the scene
Hope is failing and faith is dying
But hope is an illusion anyway
And faith doesn't perish even when you hit the rock bottom
There is always a way back up
Sometimes you have to be hit and laid out on the ground
Flat on your back
You can see the stars better that way
You can find your constellation to guide you to paradise
This isn't that bad of a level to be on
If you look at it in the right way
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