August Depression (tribute to the 1990 s summer boredom - Asche version)

A summer day drags, time stands still, A birthday forgotten, against my will. Friends have vanished, the sun beats down, Lost in this town, I wear a frown. Nineteen years, but I feel so old, Staring at walls, my story untold. The TV flickers, a ghost of the past, No escape from this prison, I’m trapped at last. The clock ticks slowly, each second a weight, In this empty room, I contemplate fate. Static replaces what laughter once gave, Vacant hours dissolve nothing ventured, nothing saved. August depression, static hum in my veins, Endless reruns replaying inside of my brain. Dust collects on the calendar pages, While summer stands still through these colorless stages. The streets are barren, the sun beats down, A ghost in the crowd, still wearing a frown. Work is a cycle, a grind without end, Counting the hours, no one to depend. Memories linger like smoke in the night, Fading away, out of mind, out of sight. Where are the dreams that once lit the sky? Now they’re just whispers, a silent goodbye. August depression, static hum in my veins, Endless reruns replaying inside of my brain. Dust collects on the calendar pages, While summer stands still through these colorless stages. The nights stretch long, with nothing to do, Just me and my thoughts, a haunting view. The radio plays a forgotten refrain, A soundtrack to sorrow, a symphony of pain. I scream at the walls, but they don’t reply, Friend with silence, I’m learning to die. Where is the laughter that once filled my soul? Now it’s just echoes, a gaping hole. August depression, static hum in my veins, Endless reruns replaying inside of my brain. Dust collects on the calendar pages, While summer stands still through these colorless stages. The sun sets low, painting skies in gray, Another day wasted, just fading away. I dream of escape, but the chains hold tight, In this endless summer, I’m losing the fight. The world outside calls, but I’m stuck in this place, A prisoner of boredom, a ghost without grace. Where is the fire that once burned so bright? Now it’s just ashes, lost in the night. August depression, static hum in my veins, Endless reruns replaying inside of my brain. Dust collects on the calendar pages, While summer stands still through these colorless stages. As the summer fades, I’m left with the night, A shadow of dreams, lost out of sight. In this town of silence, I’ll wait for the dawn, But the echoes of August will linger on.