In the torn reentry of something less than perfect
I search for elegant ways to change the circuit
For a time that I imaged was worth it
Still I cannot grasp that concept of endearment
When I was always the one that feared it
In the lost temptations of seconds gone by
I sit by myself and ask the ground why
Too wet to fetch tears that are all too salty
In the end I will see that I was the one who was faulty
Not broken or wrong as in a sad country song
But in the sense of missing a component that belongs
To the puzzle of a heart that often loses its way
On the rainiest of days