Talking's too easy and peppered with riddles.
She sits on the outside with you in her middle.
So many stories with souls on their faces;
The lies and the laces, the storm that she chases.

Would truth take her troubled hand?
Needy sits outside your door.
And everything's treasure 'til morning comes
And stolen once more.

She's misunderstood all gifts of renaissance,
Your quiet, your patience, your turbulence, Angel.
Bone-weary, let her rest in your pocket.
A brown-papered bandit, a love in your locket.

Would truth take her troubled hand?
Needy sits outside your door.
And everything's treasure 'til morning comes
And stolen once more.