You bet all your money on a lame horse,
and cried when it never came through.
You trust so much in miracles
that you forget to trust yourself,
and perhaps that is where
I have let the candle set fire to the
scented parchment,
where I wrote my confessions down
and sealed it with red lipstick;
for you my love,
always for you,
but never soon enough or quite
bold enough,
and you want freedom as much
as I do but,
you never seem to believe
in anything but the fire,
and that includes me.
So here we are,
where the candle lies and,
I find the smoke stings my lungs as much as everyone says.
So you wanted to build a house
and put everything you love into it.
You thought you had the lucky numbers in your pocket but you forgot,
that your ticket’s in the bedroom,
next to the candle,
and the lipstick stain.