oh with strings that play of spring and forgotten history
i’ve got nothing left to give to you,
forever your remained mystery
i’ll watch you go,the man of cold
my closed off mister
and the curtains will close
on all my truths untold

and i’ll Play for dimes of my moms green eyes
and listen to the cries of all my sisters
for all the times you stole my mind
send me for all the kisses

with strings that play of spring you’ll hear the ring of all my wishes
hear me sing of forgotten history
being your invisible mistress
and in a moment of play pretend
you’ll be my lustrous mister
but until then
i got nothing left to give you
but my melody’s awful glister

so i’ll play for dimes of my moms green eyes and listen to the cries of all your wishes
for all the times you stole my mind
send me for all the kisses
and maybe someday play for the eyes
of all of our dying sisters

If I cannot direct these fiery flames,
then let them engulf me entirely.
Leaving not a single hair uncharred.
Sparing no feeling, only memory.

You run for me, pail of water in hand.
The water rises, and the water falls.
Like raging waves on a vengeful see -
Like the betallion of tears in your eyes.

Alas, it hits ground - my arm left outstretched.
Confusion and betrayal paint your face.
Angels like you, can't comprehend this hate.
While I generously give and take it.

Should I fail to control this raging gift;
I would rather be consumed than lose it.
Extraordinary failure suits me,
ordinary success just never did.