I think that I fell off the planet.
For just a minute back there,
It was as if I wasn't present;
I was neither here nor anywhere.
I wish I'd held on tighter
And embraced the gravity,
But I was too busy thinking:
They're better off without me.
I think I fell off the planet,
And I didn't even say goodbye.
Which, in hindsight, is silly,
Because I was always somewhat nearby.
I wish I'd kept in contact.
The regret aches deep in my bones,
And I wish I'd figured out sooner;
Falling off planets leaves one alone.
I'd like to get back on the planet
And stop listening in from afar.
Transmissions can be distorted,
And the messages get quite bizarre.
I'm tired of drifting through empty space
And tired of feeling this lonely.
I forgot that we all need our friends,
And for that I am terribly sorry.
