"I was there somewhere"
I can't help but to cry
But the people in those photographs
Are dreams I held which had to die
They don't remember, and life moves on
But I can still hear them laugh,
Hear the fading notes of another song
In the smiles within those videos
I was there somewhere
And I can't find it in me to regret
Though I wish I'd stayed for one more set
I just wanted to be someone they wouldn't forget
When I walked out of SoCal the same way I came
In exhaust fumes and a cloud of shame.

Now all that's left are these photos and music videos
And I was there when they filmed them
So search them, you know I'm not in them
But I was there somewhere.

Lazy afternoon,
Sitting passenger side
Driving out across statelines
Chasing the sun and the heat
emanating off the blacktop
Hand out the window
Wind blowing past,
Country on the radio
No love, no commitment,
No destination
Just a map and a full tank of gas

There's a room,
Within the little shop
Behind the girl with the sign
That says "dreams for sale"
It's usually kept locked
But some nights, they open up

Inside the room there's an orchard
It's endless, and sunny
There's names upon the apple trees
I stop and trace one with my finger
Then, there's a man with me.

"I'm sorry," I say, his eyes are bright
I don't remember them that bright,
I only remember when morphine took their light
He smiles and says, "For what?"
But I just tear up, and hug him, and then
We talk for hours, but when I leave,
It's still night.

So one night, when you're hurting,
Come find the shop, and visit my tree
And then I won't be lost anymore
Because you can always find me.
If the dead are gone, it's hard to move on
But we'll always be with each other, see?

Do not tell me to be soft
To trim my claws and
Hide my teeth
For I am not
Timid, nor weak
Though my countenance may
Have convinced you otherwise
I will not conceal the venom
In my smile, nor the
Blaze behind my eyes
Do not tell me to be soft
When you aren't sorry,
Just sorry you got caught.

Do away with the doubt
And the fear
And trust the block,
Trust the blade above my head
I just want to say I have a small issue
Not big at all, I don’t mean to criticize
Only it seems a little rickety
In your craftsmanship.
And in the disdain in your eyes.

Who am I?
Behind this screen,
Am I the culmination
Of all I might have been?
And where were you-
When it all came crashing down?