My Favorites Die

Do you make it a point to prove every point?
Some sort of self-satisfaction
It’s a curious thing and your caught in the act and
I’m afraid your in the ant farm not the hill
The bigger picture never will
Strike you as appealing
Your life’s a tragedy you sang to me
Of romantic treason
Now he’s run away from you
And you’ve run out of reasons
I’m afraid you don’t really want to heal
You’ve grown to expect that we all will
Prioritize your feelings
You leave your mouth open wide until you find
The word on your tongue
Now the wind’s dried it
O when you sang it must have stung
I’m afraid your mouth’s become the achilles heel
Don’t try to reinvent the wheel
It’s only you that your cheeting
Tell me why my favorites die while they speak
Instead of dying while they sleep