I don’t know what’s been
Keeping me livin.
Maybe the malignity
My point of no divinity.
I can’t really say.

It’s just a wrinkle of paper,
thrown in the river, on the month of

September,
Show me show me no frowns.
No don’t tell now.
Maybe this will run out.
Destined, this can’t work out.
What am I to do. So.
If I were you what would she do.

I don’t know what’s been
Keeping me livin.
Maybe the hate
I can’t really say.
It’s just a waist of time,
and she threw it all away.

September,
Oh why you not remember.
It was the month of semptember,
And you just threw it all away.