All the blood I've shed,
all the fears I've fed,
all the paper hearts
with these boots I've tread,
all the sacred smiles,
I have dashed apart,
all the burnt up files
all the slashed up art,
all the tearful pleas
I have laughed right through,
are a burning bridge
between me and you.
On the stormy seas,
sailors go to die,
in your tiny hands,
mated dragonflies,
share a sweet disease
seen through lonely eyes,
on a moonlit strand,
in a land before time
moved and left you here,
stripped of your disguise
I only hope my dear
you'll forgive my lies.
I know it may sound queer,
but I still can't stand
to see of you in pain,
a severed wedding band,
my phony alibies.
Yet you cannot see
your beauty in the mirror
and you cannot hear
all the melodies,
I sung right here,
before the memories
all disappeared.
Feb 16, 2017
Feb 16, 2017 at 4:53 PM UTC
All the blood I've shed,
all the fears I've fed,
all the paper hearts
with these boots I've tread,
all the sacred smiles,
I have dashed apart,
all the burnt up files
all the slashed up art,
all the tearful pleas
I have laughed right through,
are a burning bridge
between me and you.
On the stormy seas,
sailors go to die,
in your tiny hands,
mated dragonflies,
share a sweet disease
seen through lonely eyes,
on a moonlit strand,
in a land before time
moved and left you here,
stripped of your disguise
I only hope my dear
you'll forgive my lies.
I know it may sound queer,
but I still can't stand
to see of you in pain,
a severed wedding band,
my phony alibies.
Yet you cannot see
your beauty in the mirror
and you cannot hear
all the melodies,
I sung right here,
before the memories
all disappeared.
I'll put away my cleaver, if you stop leaving behind those little grey boxes, Okay?
