The bright side's dying on my back,
And I am sad that I never turned back,
But at least the stars ahead of me would give me slack,
I would be walking backwards to catch the acts
About this dying light so bright upon my back,
Foolish sunset lashbacks,
The act that this set of days set always my back,
It's colorful interest that I lack,
To turn back to see sunsets,
That make everyday blues turn black,
I'll never know exactly when it leaves my back.
Quietly treading our pacts, just me and the sunset settling in on my back.