This morning the sun's rays reminded me of you
The colour of your hair...The warmth of your voice too
Not that I'll be hearing you, not any time soon
I see that now, as I stare at the moon
Ah yes, my every day starts and ends the same
but in the middle, my anger's aflame
I hate who I am, I miss who I was
I miss my angel, who is without flaws
but hey, I'm fine, I'm really okay
At least on the outside anyway.