This stale air has grown to choke me.
Take a look around,
the old buildings,
the rusting street signs...
this is our home.
It seems like I'm heading in the direction
where there are only red lights
and the white lights are out of the question.
I've grown tired of these aged skid marks.
Everyday I get the same old hello from the flowers.
The trees can keep themselves company.
Say goodbye to the ghosts in the attic for me,
I need to catch a flight
out......
away......