Does it scare you to be a muse?
Does it give you joy to be idolized?
A sick satisfaction to possess this power?

I felt a feeling.
Gave it a name.
But you weren't there.

So

I'll be the one explaining you.

Yes, that is the real power.
Yes. I can stir.

But not my idol.
Not my muse.

I sail alone on the hopeless sea
With just the stars to fill my view
You are a firework that lit up my sky
now the smoke is just the memory of you

In that moment, you gave me sight
But now it’s darker than before
My lonesome shadow adjusts in my eye
just me and the stars, forevermore