The Night Fell On Day Time.

We viewed our lives as an instrument
Without actually having it
We wrote about our happy lives
Except me, no not this time

As my guitar leans upon a broken window
Wet and discoloured music;
Lost for all I know
Its strings no longer able to play;
Music never came out anyway

Twisted, swirled, and coiled up
The strings are caught in random stuff
All broken, cut, and out of tune
The right description for this lune

The neck is cracked almost in half
Because it was torn in going two paths;
Rock and country aren't the same
When you love one the other is lame

Silently taking over
Wishing to change everything
Fooling the fools
Humming the silent wish
Outsiders looking in
Touching the beauty
Breaking the silence

It's dusty and rusty and beyond repair
not even good enough to use for spares
So against the broken window it will lay
And then the people will throw it away.
And my night shall fall during the day.