In the morning, when I’m still in my dreams
I wake to you, tangled in my sheets

I picture us like this forever and on
I’ll be the night sky, you’ll be the stars
I know I'm young but, the world could be ours

Can’t you see

Dear paris,
you come and you go
It’s been months now
and I can’t let you go

I can’t believe that im stuck like this
I know im young, but its me that you’ll miss

Can’t you see

In this nightmare of within and without
Its sin and its doubt
And its you

I'll be the window in your room
I can show you outside but I can't push you through

Can’t you see

When I close my eyes I see us there
With neither doubt or worry
Neither name nor despair

The only thing that saves me
is the hope I hold within
I’ll see you in my sleep, love
I’ll stay that way to win

Can’t you See

In the morning, when I’m still in my dreams
I’ll wake to you, tangled in my sheets

have you ever believed
in something so blindly
so genuinely
that the moment you realize
it isn't true, something inside you
changes forever?
i wanna tell you a story, see
seldom do i ever
go swimming in drinks
deep enough to drown in
but when i do
i speak in tongues
about things that none
of my memories
are allowed to talk about
like that christmas
at the isthmus
where my girlfriend
plucked a conch shell
whiter than gods teeth
out of the sand
held it to her ear
and stopped time
that day she was a shade of blue
the could've made the ocean sick
see, she loved to play jokes
when she held
the sea shell to her ear
she gasped, called my name
and said "i want you to hear this"
i said "yeah, right, everybody knows it's just the same old sea"
she replied "no. not this one. this one is special. listen. theres music in this one"
she handed me the shell
like a promise she couldn't keep
and i held it to my ear
with all the potential
of seeing shore
after being stranded
at sea for years
only to hear
a tired dirge of silence
spill from its emptiness
i guess she didn't know
how desperately
i wanted to hear it too
because ever since
something inside me snapped
now sand pours out
of every post card i open
i hear seagulls
in telephone static
sometimes i have dreams
where i bury my hands
in every beach
i've ever been on
and exhume this graveyard of noise
every time i try to sleep
i spit up fishhooks
and i guess i'm obsessed
but maybe
if i hold my ear
to enough vacant things
then i could have back
the time stolen from me
since it happened
maybe they would get it
if they knew what i wanted
when i blow out birthday candles
maybe they'll find me
face down in a wishing well
i watch eternal sunshine
of the spotless mind every day
pretending i can forget too
because this sea sickness
has followed me for years
because yesterday
i walked into a music shop
and all the pianos broke
but the only thing
i can think to say is
*do you know how bad
a memory has to be
that you fantasize
about forgetting it?