It's early spring, gorgeous day, just after noon.
Checks her watch it's twelve forty-seven.
On a day like today, with a little imagination
you can can see all the way up to heaven.

Across town, a church she attends, wedding bells 
are tolling.
The son of a bitch is getting married.
She's alone on the roof, revelling in self-pity and 
a dime bag of potent California weed.

She had it all you know, good looks, great job, 
cool friends, an unbelievable man.
Now its all up in flames and she's confused, 
struggling with emotions she doesn't understand.

Got lucky in  the winter of ninety-seven and 
caught what everyone says was the perfect love.
Fumbled the ball six months ago, unintentionally,
surprise, surprise, he took off like a dove.

Takes a final drag on the joint, walks over to the edge.
God must be feeling good, not a cloud in the sky.
Closes her eyes and jumps, graceful as ever,
doesn't believe, knows for a fact she can't fly.

Twenty stories to the sidewalk, it's time to stop the hurt.
Shit happens, life goes on they say, but at what cost?
Horrified scream, a sickening thud, game over.
Another fucked up life, 
Lost

Lost  - copyright © 2000 Ahkenaton  All rights reserved