Before you leave,
you kiss me with words.
But me, well there is nothing,
to sell me to make me believe.

Sitting there,
two-thousand tons of stone,
and the implosions of every Sun,
leaves me alone staring anywhere.

The story of me is torn,
the pages all burned to ash,
the chapters born new,
whats more when I don't have you?

I knew what you had to say,
even before your lips opened.
That day was the last sliver,
in the setting Sun of our past.

Too busy with ideas and thoughts,
my mind raced to the cliffs of sorrow,
wishing I could borrow, what I won't find,
and that would be another moment of faded time.