Life's about

It's kind of about 
this someone with flaws
that everyone knows 
and nobody calls. 

For they love this someone 
some much, some sure 
- their opinion can't stand 
to come or to get to know 

anymore. And 

them's the breaks! For that's 
all she wrote, or that's all he 
makes, to want to care less 
for each other, ourselves. 

'Cause that's what it takes. 

We call it "drift,"
place no blame either way. 
We all keep such shelves, 
and we all catch such drifts. 

They all seem so sure, like 
shining white snowed-upon 
hills so pure, but the crust 
can't hold weight unless 
heart bears it up. So it 

breaks and we fall 
so deep. Suffocate, 
sunshine
buttercup