I wish you didn't prune me like a branch,
But if I stayed you wouldn't have grown,
And to rewrite the pain that once borne,
I'd wish the fire tickled on your bones.

If I could dust off the earth and dare myself to another pair of arms,
If I could step out the inn and march with the strolling players,
However my rose-tinted heart made no flicker,
Made no sound like sea-splitting thunder.
No, not a heart I should give another.

Oh, but the strokes of your silver-tinted bristles,
You dotted my heart like freckles.
You spun and swirled your words, like a silvertongue,
However, even the deaf and blind need to be upfront.
'Cause as I bled I could taste the silver,
When you gave all of yourself on a silver platter.

So, leave me dreary under the crease of twilight;
Leave me on the earth where its soil rumbles in stride,
And I hope your knees fall into someone stronger than gravity,
Cause that strength you're digging for,
For love, it's not with me,
Not anymore, not where it's supposed to be.