In her room On her bed She was the rising sun Autumnal oranges with hints of red Dancing on the walls Psychedelic kisses Nothing is as perfect as this is
Though the sun always sets Evening regrets A thousand shades of pink Ultraviolent violets filling the sky All painted black eventually Apart from the speckled starlight
The cold of the deep night As souls are sleeping Breathing in 4/4 time A common time signature for common people
Then there's the stragglers and delinquents Bar room brawlers and disgruntled infants I believe they call those bar room brawlers Although I'm not so witty And not pretty enough for anyone to care
She hangs pictures of her and her friends On a board above the desk Happier times with wild smiles Dressed in Sunday best I feel so sad and sickened That I was all she had now In this strange town
Her shoes of English leather That matched my soul that matches the English Weather An obvious blend of grey and petrichor My reflection in inconvenient puddles on the floor I suppose that was me before
I don't know if it means anything Is it meant to mean anything? Why does love seem like everything? It's all just one big comedy Or was it a tragedy? Or are they both dancing in moonlight And crying with laughter As we pretend it's all alright?
I thought I had things to say But I never want to say them I don't know if they're true I don't know what to do I think I wanted to say them once But every time I see you Things feel different But I thought we got on well I wonder if you'll read this Or if it will die in the back of a book Left on the shelf
I know this is hard to read Forgive me I never kept a diary I have no order And I could never colour between the lines.