nothing but a fairly tale.
i live through half my life in denial,
and the other half hopelessly dreaming.
half my life is this crystal clear reality,
hits me like a freight train,
every morning that i wake.
and the other floats above me,
like something that could be,
or should've been.
you were a fairytale,
you ran from my arms.
but it's alright darling,
i hear you laugh once in a while,
i see you smile.
i see you're doing well,
and that's all i want.
you're doing well,
without me.