These failures right themselves in past and present tense

There compiling these guidelines on giving up

But I've got a comma in my pocket and you've got a dot dot dot

We could steal some sugar from blank pages

We could taste life if we don't get caught

The ball point is run dry

It's standing on standby

Trapped in itself

Condemended to mediocracy

Your eyes are spelling out stories your lips won't dare to speak

Our biographies are slowly burning, it's tragically beautiful, it's painful and sweet

The ball point is run dry

It's standing on standby

Making love to it's paper as it scratches and tears

They'll write you off