You want an idea of this life I live
Of these tears I cry
Of these lies I hear

You want an idea of my open wounds
And how I got them
How they will never go away
Day after day
Months after May

You want an idea of all the things I beg for
Of the things I would die for

No idea will ever be as clear as the
Cigarettes I smoke
As the water when I wash my hair
As the leaves as winter is near

You want an idea of how my heart is shaped
How it hurts like darts
How it hides when someone unfamiliar is near

Do you still want an idea of the words In my head
Or the thoughts I left laying in my bed

The idea that you know me from the ideas in your head
Will never amount to the ideas I have left unsaid