The sun may see me every day
But the moon knows me
In every way
She knows how many tears it takes
To soak my pillow
She calls to me like a friend
Her little weeping willow
She knows the blood that trails
Down my skin
She knows I patch myself up
Only to begin all this again
She knows how desperately
I'm trying to fly to her
Like a little plane
Made of paper
She knows one day
I'll make it
I'll fly up to her
And there I won't have to fake it
The smile I paint on
For the sun
I'll start my new adventure with the moon
And the one down here can be done.