Maybe it's not about this
Maybe it's not about the way you say my name
Or about the paper planes you wrote our dreams on
And then tried to fly them from your room
To my hands.

Maybe it's not about the songs you played to me
On your old guitar
Neither about the way your laugh would come killing
Every sad minute in my life.

Maybe its not about the way you'd show me the snow and the sun
The rain
And the autumn in your eyes.

Maybe it's not about the way you've taught me
how to fight loneliness
Or how to smile and chase away the demons in my head.

Maybe it's not about any of these.
Or maybe it's about everything.


Maybe it's about the fact that I love you
And
You've never taught me
How to stop this.

All I know is
Paper planes don't always fly
Only my dreams do
All the time.

Away from me
Away from you
Away from us.

I know.
I know how our souls react
I am here and you are there
and like magnets we sometimes attract each other
and sometimes repel
it's just about the way we sit,
you see,
when we close our eyes
it's easier to feel.

And my heart is stained
and my hands are tattooed with sins
and I know,
there's too much blue in my eyes
and too much white in my soul,
too much winter
too much snow
for the fire that you are.

I know
and you know too
there is a ground we'll both step on,
Together,
when there won't be so much snow
when you will have forgiven my hands
and the blue in my eyes
will seem warm enough
for your heart.