Late at night I think of you
Your eyes
Your voice
Your smile
And these words
Pour from my pens
You my darling
Are my midnight inspiration
The thoughts that pop up
As I'm trying to sleep
The ones that make me
Turn the lights back on
Repeating the words so I don't forget
The ones I write twelve times
Twelve different ways
Just to find the right combination
You're the ideas I scribble
As they drift in one by one
The bits and pieces I think of
Every now and again
The reason I can write again
And you don't have a clue
That you my dear
Are my midnight inspiration

Stand by your side
Fight for your life
The world is a battlefield
And we will survive

First you try and create the mood,
A quiet and peaceful atmosphere
Give us more romance than you should,
Find your inner voice, calm and clear.

Then your hands on the piano
Should look like the wings of a butterfly
Tell us about that girl you know,
Tell a story that would make us cry.

Just write a love song,
With stupid clichés and stupid romance
Make us sing along,
And give us the chance
To fall in love tonight.

Try to remember about
All the chances you missed
And what hurt the most in your past
And all those goodbye kisses ;

Turn those memories into
A stupid song with a stupid name,
Like "That girl I thought I knew",
And don't come back with no fame.

Just write a love song,
With stupid clichés and stupid romance
Make us sing along,
And give us the chance
To fall in love tonight.

And here we go, you're on stage,
The crowd listens to you.
Locking your heart away in a cage,
Locking away everything you knew.

Sing with your own voice the painful words
That couldn't get out of your throat ;
Admit your feelings to that special girl,
Or don't say anything at all...

Just write a love song,
With stupid clichés and stupid romance
Make us sing along,
And give yourself the chance
To fall in love tonight,
For the last time.

A poet wants...
    Someone who adores everything they've ever written
    (because it means they adore us)
But a poet needs...
      Someone who's honest, who tells us when it's not our best work
      (because it makes the good work even more special)
A poet wants...
    Someone to hold close every night. Someone who loves to have poems breathed into their collarbone while they sleep
     (because it inspires long love poems)
But a poet needs...
      Someone who spends a few nights away. Someone who forgets to call occasionally
       (because it inspires real poems)
A poet wants...
    Everything to be perfect. To be able to edit and rewrite life as it happens, so we never have to feel pain
    (because then we wouldn't have to feel embarrassed about the unshared poems in our journals)
But a poet needs...
    Pain. Imperfection. Mistakes. Life.
     (because it allows us to write to feel to forgive to learn. To bleed out our heartbreak with ink and parchment. To reach out to each other with words)
All because a poet thrives on the difference between *want and **need

Wish I wasn't so broken
Cause everyone around doesn't want to be a friend
They just want to fix me
They want to turn my static into something more dynamic
They follow me around and orbit my dramatics
But I'm not much of a fan-addict

I just sedate
And when the dark rolls around
I know that I will live forever
I will never separate, and you will not see me
I will live in the dark forever
I will decorate the back of my eyelids with stars and coffins
I will put you to your rest, put you back to bed, where you came from
Behind time sockets

You will see the moon twitch with every night that passes
But the moon will always be full
Have fun with your illusions
I'll be recreating in a star of nuclear fusion

Give me your life, I will create your excuses
I will grind your ideas into fine powder
I will make a solution
I will travel so fast away from here I will undo the future
Till the fabric of space time seems a bit looser

I will live forever, you will not see me
I am as invisible as dark matter
I will be as swift and destructive as solar wind
I will put you to rest, I will put you back to bed, where you came from
Behind time sockets