the words we softly whispered in a language of our own as we silently ruled our kingdom from our pillow thrones
i'm cradled in your arms and the room is dimly lit as my soldiers lay down their arms and i begin to let you in
novels of dreams and childhood years tales of sleepless nights reports of all my irrational fears which i confessed by dim candlelight
thoughts that my mind had never before heard tumbled from my mouth- i was choking on the brutality of all my honest words and the ideas which you were provoking
like birds in a cage, my feelings trapped for too long and the dust on this page had been there all along
the first time i was hurt i swore it was my last but i begin to revert with my red wine filled glass
as we slowly drift off into our peaceful slumber both enveloped by the night i did, in fact, begin to wonder if i should confess love by dim candlelight
inspired by and loosely based on lamplight by bombay bicycle club