It’s not about you and it never was.
You are the ring of wax the candle left behind
When I switched to China rain incense.
Your words were a kind melody
I once danced to; now I smile.
Kindness is a virtue best appreciated
By the receiver and I am tired of giving.
Love is the thought that won't cut my mind
Or mend my fractured soul.
I do not mind having a splintered past
But I'd much rather be alone than mean.
And I would be mean, love without peace,
Leave me with my braids and beads,
All those fraying leather seams.
Bet you couldn't see my melancholy
I bet you think I'm lying, you think I'm scared.
You think you know me, sorry,
Not even that is true.
The girl you met could've been ensnared
She lit candles and didn't care.
Wax only burns the moment it touches skin
Flame can't last longer than the wick.
There's a spirit inside me now and she,
I, am very brave if sometimes icy.
So leave the ones you won't know
Forget the ones you don't know.
No person is what they seem
Or who they seem to love.
Not all wise men prosper
Nor is all bravery kind.
Perhaps the wisest
The bravest thing
For me to do
Is to be sour
Is to be mean.