You once made my sky blue,
reason why I can't hate you.
I know you loved me too,
but now you tore my heart in two.

I loved you all those years,
I fought away your fears.
As I drink all these beers,
I am fighting back my tears.

I was always your believer,
while you're a heart breaker.
Promising a life together,
I should've known better.

You begged to let you go,
while I yell back no!
I had stoop so low,
taking a heavy blow.

You have moved on quickly,
while I'm failing miserably.
You even replaced me easily,
played with my heart selfishly.

I want to feel all the anger,
but would it make me lighter?
Would it make things better?
Or would it make me bitter?

You already left,
leaving our book in a shelf.
Another love story has ended,
another protagonist that's wounded.

There's no such thing as happy ending,
I should just stop dreaming.
I should just stop trying,
I should just stop searching.

I know you're already happy,
and it's not because of me.
I am finally setting you free,
even if it kills me.

A world where you need to hide,
a world where you need to abide.
As your inner self has died,
people not knowing the times you cried.

A world where you would need to impress,
a world where you would need to suppress.
The real you that you want to express,
until your mind slowly becomes a mess.

People who expects you to be perfect,
someone who doesn't have any defect.
That's when they give you respect,
when you show them you are not a reject.

Parents disowning their children,
just because they were different.
You can only come back when you repent,
or experience hell's eternal torment.

This is still the world we live in,
Can't be comfortable in your own skin.
And just by being yourself would be a sin.
Whatever you choose you can never win.

I heard you were quitting,
I guess it's that frustrating.
The monster inside laughing,
He can feel that he's winning.

Are you choosing him to take over?
Already declaring him the winner?
Telling yourself you're a loser?
Because you became a quitter.

Your creations are work of art,
everything came from the heart.
You need to go back from the start,
think about how you'd got this far.

It was always your sweet escape,
it was your emotions that helped you create.
A masterpiece that people can relate,
to the extent they can feel your heartache.

Remember the times you started writing,
those times when you were breaking.
Those times when you were hurting,
those times when you were drowning.

It made you get up and fight,
it helped you restore your might,
When everything doesn't feel right,
you sit down and start to write.

So now grab a pen and a paper,
go ahead and try to remember.
The reason why you became a writer,
and the magic behind "The Dreamer."