you lied to me, idiot
you told me that we would play songs together
you told me that you would play with me
for the last time in your life
before you truly left me *behind
under the petals of the cherry blossoms
i was just a friend of yours who seemed so ordinary
a person who just wrote scores to a music sheet
whose fingers haven't touched a piano in years
stuck in the past of his horrible memories
you keep bugging me for canelés
you keep hitting me with your shoe
you keep pestering me to keep practising
i hate the way you see me as just a friend
but i really don't know what made me love you
you hid a secret from me at the start of april
henceforth, i was able to know about it
to know about it by seeing it without warning
that you were at your last days during the winter months
your hand slipping from consciousness, losing its grip
these music sheets i was never able to grasp for long
you gave them back to me, the energy that i've lost
to play the music full of words and expression
for i truly cannot be good with my own words
but through sounds, i can reach your heart
for the last time, i played, i played out for you
my heart pouring its feelings onto the piano
as if it was my very own, indulged to its melody
you face before me one last time with your violin
before i knew it, you left me with tears streaking down my cheeks
*you may be an idiot, but i love you very much
Your Lie In April