To the Cleaners

Falling down is a chronic game

You play the part to gain sympathy

You own the role, sell the pain, then bear the fruit of the suffering

When nothing works to relieve it

An endless life of "just give in"

Growing old, its all in vain, "burn me fast and blow the ash away" he said

I wanna flow through the fire and the life that transpired

And it comes in waves that push me across the deepest end

I'll never see the light again

Nothing will change you can't relate

And you make yourself believe it

Who will blow the ash away when there's nothing left to see here