Desaturated

She sits quietly
behind the window watching passers-by
on this side of the glass all colour drained from life

Nights and days are all the same
awfully equal and awake
still time never has considered to take a break

All she held onto fell away
till there remained nothing left to say
No more comfort beside
the lies we tell
to soothe her days

Gold has turned to rust
And every line of silver has a cloud
It's a monsoon of misery that's pouring out

Inner conversations are the curse
that make revelations even worse
And the devil argues with her god
ridicules the values that she bought

And now the rain is falling down again
it's draining everything she has again
and now the rain is falling down again
Down, down down down....again.