Pan Dulce Hotel

nonsensical things produced by too much free time and a lack of something

There is no theory I can fathom to bind you by my side

Every time you would leave, I would try

But I'm distraught and displeased with the things I'd believe

I'd like to cast it all aside but even that is not all right.

I'll sit and think of things to better, but the truth is;

There is no place here that you might like

The door's always open and the rooms are a mess

And the kitchen too, where there's discord and unrest

People starve but nothing sates

Without my Head chef the menu can only have bitter things

And the secret ones, you might not know yet

You'll have to ask for them.

Will you be back again?

The ceiling is beyond my reach and the door's always open

The windows are dull and there's a lack of clarity.

I see a vacant lot, full of useless things

They bind me still in hopes that you'll return to me.

A silly thing hoarding all of these memories

And this bittersweet bread that I'll have to eat.

Author's Note

nonsensical things produced by too much free time and a lack of something