What exactly is it that's cemented to your heart? Is it the roses that travel through your veins, painting your heart red? Is it the sound of the blue salt foamed waves that floods your memory with her? Is it the melodic tones that echo through the car speaker, tranquilizing your torment ? You don’t need to remember, love. Your heart is a pulsating instrument of wavering feelings.
A scratch in a casket is not something you would expect. With the meaning attached, you think someone would have checked But with you I expected nothing else. A public flaw presented beautifully. You did just the same. Wore your flaws beautiful and proud But some remained hidden These were flaws of the spirit Flaws you didn't show Flaws we didn't know If you only showed like the casket A scratch we could have prevented Or maybe we should have just asked And your casket wouldn't be cemented.