The thin glistening needle threads
back and forth,
back and forth.
As the black thread slowly tangles in a knot

It twists and turns through each circle,
creating a lump in the center,
stoping the artist in their track,
forcing them to ponder on the black thread.

Should they continue?
Or should they stop,
cut the string and restart,
unwind new thread,
And strain their eyes again?

The world spins regardless of weather,
It rotates and breathes what we never hold.
And all that’s left is just to wonder,
Why is it the air and the planets are so bold
When all we have is nothing to be sold.
So therefore what reason do we have to be so cold?
If the place we live in never stops to gander,
Why do we feel we need to ponder?
And if the sky and the seas find hosanna,
       Why can’t I?

Lets talk about our past memories
All the stories and all the tales
Let’s talk about all our theories
And how they never seem to last
Cause we never seem to look past
All of our notes and all our facts

Let’s find ourselves alone
At 3am. Crying on our beds,
Avoiding the biggest traffic cone
Inside of our sorrowful heads.

Because we can’t escape ourselves,
What we’ve broken upon the shelves.
And we started counting in twelves,
Forgetting the one’s and the thirteen’s,
And all the rest in the in betweens.
Now we can’t find anything to be unseen.

If only we had taken our predictions,
And thrown out all our guns,
Lived like all the billions,
And stopped resting in coffins.

We will rise, Rise up to the earth.
Rise up to the skies, We will rise.
No waterfall will take us down,
No flood of rain or broken walls,
No white of winter can tear us up.
So why should tears destroy us?
We will lose everything at once,
But we will rise, rise up to the earth.
Rise up to the skies, we will rise.
And we can hope for sunny rays,
But what’s the use during lazy days?
So we will rise, take action in our pain.
Find comfort in our cries.
And when no one else can save us,
We’ll rise up on our own.
I swear we’ll be okay.
With all our efforts theirs no other way.
No heart of gold can help us,
If our heart is made of stone.
So let’s open up our arms,
And bloom through the rocks.
On our own or by ourselves
We will stand our ground.
Cause we will rise, rise up to the earth.
Rise up to the skies, we will rise.

So the story goes,
The girl who left
Had a heart of gold.
Her soul was precious,
And she was kind.
She always just seemed fine.

And so the story goes,
She left the world
With a pain in her chest.
Her life was short,
They say and repeat.
Forgetting all reasons why.

But so the story goes,
Ten years after her glow,
Changed and twisted
To fit a dream
That speaks of untrue times,
Covered by well said rhymes.
They are undeniably lies.

And so the real tale goes,
She didn’t want to be seen,
And she found a way to hide,
To be gone from all sight.
And she didn’t want them to talk,
But all they do now is talk;
Her name remains.

The real tale shows.
That words picture her
With unrealistic strokes.
That their stories make a lesson,
That was never really learned.
Falsifying her as a winner,
When all she did was lose.

And the real tale knows,
That the people talking now,
Wouldn’t talk if she didn’t hide.
And when joining her
They’ll walk past,
Forgetting that her name
Ever passed their lips.

I get it she’s better than me.
She’s skinny, has a beautiful voice,
Can sing, has long hair,
A perfect face, great smile,
Wonderful personality (I hear,)
And she’s not as mentally broken.
I get it, she’s better than me.
That’s why you’re going to choose her,
I see it in your eyes when you talk to me.
You’re always thinking of her,
Wondering about her safety.
You call her when you’re with me,
You protect her when she’s hurt,
And you leave me alone,
Suffering in my mind.
And I’m playing the girl,
Who doesn’t care.
In hopes that you might see,
I really do care.
And I want you to be with me.
But go to her,
Because I know she’s better than me.
And right now I know you want her,
And not me.