Nearing the edge, as we age
Why does it feel like that at 27?
After December cut and run anguish,
Running now to relieve the tension.

They say it’s a myth, that it’s just not true
But the pull in my muscle begs me to prove
At this age so many of the heroes die
As Cobain and Winehouse would testify

Moving forwards or squandering back
Midnight rooftop when anything could happen
But sans substances or even drink
Lahore intoxicates with her bloody passion

Running off the rails, or risking it all
But there are worse ways that people can fall
At 27, it has my imagination spiked
No past, no future, just me and Lahore, tonight