Our nights of lying on the broken pavement and spilling ourselves into the cracks are over
But honestly, it may be better this way
Because at least now I'm not dreaming up ways of how to fill in the spaces between the concrete and the grass
And you're not scratching up your elbows on the pebbles and the glass
I know you've cut your hands a few times, but now I'm not stuck cleaning up the mess
Don't think I haven't noticed your cologne pressed into her dress
I've seen her love letters in your pillow case and her silhouette
Gliding awestruck on your curtains
I wish I was as beautiful as every word her mouth has ever spoken
I've seen more of her lipstick on her teeth than I've seen on your neck
I bet she shows more love to glass bottles than she ever could to you, except
At least the alcohol can give her some kind of bliss
The smell of wine on her breath is the venom in her kiss
You think she knows love, my dear, she's simply brushing the tip
of it

Because with me, you were more than happy to get your feet wet, but I think it would have drowned you to dive in
I knew you were never strong enough to swim

I was a language
You never bothered to learn how to read
And I was a dance without a song
And you couldn't follow me

But we are just so different, her and I
She dances on the moon and she shakes hands with the stars
Shes a bustle in the city and the mystique in passing cars
And love,
I could never compete with that kind of art

I guess it's true
That one mans trash is another mans treasure
And you are the soil of the earth that endured my violent weather
You are the ground that holds me, but the wind that severs
And I would ask for it to be different, but I could never question Mother Nature
But I will always question why I am
The way I am

I know you'd rather feel her nail marks in your back than me drawing down your chest
You'd rather hear her drunken laughter than the whispers on my breath
I hope you'll realize there more lipstick on her mirror than there is on your neck
And I can't help you then
I won't wait forever
I'll let you handle the rest

You'll go on living
I'll go on breathing
But if you ask me, dear
Those aren't quite the same thing

She saw God in the things like her morning creamer and the shape of the clouds during summer
But not much past that
Because when it came to showing love and giving people what they need
She wanted to sow a barren field without planting any seeds
She wore her faith around her neck instead of on her sleeve
If it wasn't for the Infant of Prague on her dresser and those Rosary beads
I would have no idea what it was she was trying to teach
All of them are unwilling to admit their imperfections
Because all the repercussions are held back by their holy impersonations
Their sins will never fade and their souls will never be saved and the devil won't be tamed
By her crucifix collection
I'm sure the Lord is much more forgiving than she made Him seem
She takes every communion drop and lets it fester poison in her bloodstream
God turned the water to wine that made its home in my lungs
And while He took away the rain, it still made me flood
Because knowing I made it through His downpour wasn't good enough
My hands are folded in a prayer, but they're covered in my blood
Praying that He will come to my pity party and fill me in on all I've missed
That He'll take me into His arms just so I can feel that He exists
But Satan has been writing my invitations and my Lords not on the list
So lets toast this wine that kills us and celebrate dying young
Because the devils watching me, and he's got a silver tongue
And of all these Bible stories, I don't know which part I prefer:
When Judas sold my God or kissed him when he left
Compared to silver coins, I dealt Him in for so much less

They'll hold their noses high and boast their goodness to the sky
I know that I'm not perfect, in fact, I'm who they criticize
They spit on me and cast me to the side
because those who sin differently are worthy of no pride

Her church may close its doors and throw me away
But it's okay
I don't want to worship like she does anyway

I still see God in the fall breeze and in the dying autumn trees
But not much past that
I'm writing love letter to my Saviour with a marker on red helium balloons
Each one holds an apology
I hope I hear from Him soon