Workaholic and selfish
I don't have time for relationships
a slew of fair weathered friendships
a ton of late night parties
Then I disappear
So many options
I can't be everything to everyone
Nor something to just one
Unless I am someone to me
Center of my own universe
I work hard and I play hard
and in between I sleep
I choose my patients over my friends
I choose my patience over my friends
Until the weekend
I choose my voice then
Callous and cold
I say yes then I say no
but part of me feels like
you had your chance
and now it's my turn.
We all choose
In the end
yes we do
I don't regret my choices
do you?
I don't regret my voices,
either.
It's painful but I do, choose my guitar over you.
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