Papers flying, off the pile;
Clothes stacked up, stacked up as high
As the frustration seeping into your mind.


Turbulence is your peace in life:
The tears you’ve shed, alone at night;
The people you’d been, and killed inside;
Lost and found, oh the cycle still thrives.


Your soul weeps, yet it survives;
The smiles sneaked in when you’ve made time
And papers still - they’re afloat, alive.


A teardrop spills, it’s soaked up, dried.
The ink pot - tipped off it lies
Dripping gently, so synchronized.

Recall: All the times you’ve tried
All the hours you’ve spent, simply wasted time.
“Aim for the stars. You’ll reach it – you’ll smile”
But the failure you’ve become, you can no longer live by.

The clock ticks on, no your heart won’t die
"Give up, give up" - the dreams you've lost sight of, oh why!

Papers still flying, another stack you’ve struck falls
“The Sound of Silence” – that’s what it’s still called.