I don’t want to step out of the blue again;
and dig into that void.
Not knowing the legend this could’ve been;
the distance it tastes like cyanide.
As we slid our fingertips away
when we let go of our hands forever.
The colors slowly faded away
from that picture that we would’ve made.
And the flowers died;
the petals have fallen
straight down to the floor.
The roses I gave my granny;
they used to shine;
they don’t shine no more
Because its been 5 years we hugged goodbye;
that we shed our tears;
and waved our hands in the sky.
And looked away;
yeah we looked away.
But I didn’t see my fate.
But I saw a pigeon in my room;
the bird it tried to fly.
It desperately smacked the window pane;
the poor bird saw the damn blue sky
Outside, in the trees;
outside of its nest;
outside with the doves;
outside in my head.
Once more I seem to be missing out on some lives I could’ve had.
Once more I wish I either had no home
or no heart that felt the memories;
or the lack of them.
We’re always a fucking half-a-world apart.
The beach has now been washed out
‘t was the oceans vast length.
My journey lacks your footsteps.
Nothing is left to compare against.
Bed stories telling tales;
of giant monumental acts.
If only I could tell those stories…