Just

There's no heartbreak, no sound of death
there's no pain to be left
there're no tears, no river of blood
there's no promise of words unsaid.

There is nothing to describe,

No stories to be told
No masks they must uphold
No treacherous the tought
No feelings to be wrought

There is nothing to describe,
nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing

'Cause it's just a man leaving
walking out the door
who has left a hundred times
and will leave a hundred more
and wheather he'll be back in just a day
or just a year
it's just a man leaving

just a man leaving,
not just any man.

I need music-friends who can write music for my texts. Feels like we're sufficiently proficient in all skills necessary in our gang, except music. Or?