Roots

Photographs of yesterday are fading on my mantelpiece, and my faith’s been running out the door.

These dice feel loaded, what day is this? I haven’t seen a morning since I can’t remember.

I won’t break down, I can’t be shaken down, there’s a flame hidden that you’ll never find.

I won’t break down, I can’t be shaken down, these roots can never be torn.

Man, it feels like a con, these seats are preserved for thieves, was the writing always on the wall.

The old guard, this damned house of cards, ancient ruins are there to remind.

I won’t break down, I can’t be shaken down, there’s a flame hidden that you’ll never find.

I won’t break down, I can’t be shaken down, these roots can never be torn.

Postcards from yesterday, yet the apathy remains, chasing my faith out the door.