Left empty with nothing but dreams.
Pulling at the seams
Of an old, white dress.
It's time to confess.

It was the welcome flood
That pushed her along, left her sprawled
Awkwardly on the ground.
But it was his turn to fall
In his own blood.

It was like candy in your veins,
Like riding a horse without the reins.
Like a a day without rain,
The day he felt her pain.
The last -the only- time he looked into her eyes.

Left empty with nothing but dreams
She's not what she seems.
Like an old white dress.
Those dark stains have much to confess.