Between the highlights and the lowlights

The bad days and the goodnights

Not knowing what is said or seen

What is not now or may have been

Hollow sounds of faint souls lost in soundless seas

Cast in sanded swallows of intricacies

Lamented in the canvas of painted currencies

Fallen farther than the stars that shine so far behind

The visions that arise within these eyes going blind

Looking for what is there, only wishes for blank checks

While the ink is drying, somewhere no one else suspects

What is not now or may have been

Not knowing what is said or seen

The bad days and the goodnights

Between the highlights and the lowlights