Fried rice on a late night
a transition from the sunlight
to have a lunar eye hang high
hope to hell that I don't blink twice
cause I rarely spot the passing time
might be the tears across my eyes
blocking sight like grains of rice
falling so gradually
but now the rice has filled the pan
maybe my tears can top it off
so when it boils ill hold the salt
cause my seasoning is sadness
its a dash of powder in a dish
inside the ocean just one fish
I'm sad now ill be sad again
but the sun rises and I'm glad again
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