Listening for the sun, pretty ballerinas waiting
Glasses full of ice but what of their hearts; are
they still hoping or is it just sadness escaping?
Reality or mere existence, it’s hard to know how to live
Solitary women making their lips sing, but would the
stars remember what tomorrow can never forgive?
There was nothing I could say
Walking inside a fish bowl
You can’t hear the light
But what we choose to see
Is either the prism of what is right
Or the shadow of what is wrong
Listening for the sun, desperate men burning
Eyes full of passion but what of their hearts;
are they still hoping or is it a memory forgetting?
Reality or mere existence, it's hard not to think of it
Solitary men making their voices heard; but would
meaning choose which candle would finally be lit?
There was nothing I could say
Walking inside a fish bowl
You can’t hear the light
But what we choose to see
Is either the prism of what is right
Or the shadow of what is wrong
