COMA TOAST

Just as the wind uses its whistle to wake us up.
we all reach a point where we feel stuck.
and keys do us no good here
neither does hope nor fear
just run run so fast
it's your nightmare you must outlast
breath.....
the leaves are still rustling out and about
my nerves are edgy don't blackout
hide.....
stay away from the light its really not morning
if you don't they all be mourning
squeeze...
you can hear them
but they get no response
not sure if you can feel them
they'll miss you a lot
sleep......