I keep dreaming of falling.
Sinking through clouds and bleeding skies,
The winds don't hold me and oxygen chokes me.
I wish you'd taught me how to fly.
Is a home still a home when your hat rack is gone?
Does the sun still rise without the dawn?
I'd paint the sunset, but I've lost my muse,
I'd claw at my heart, but you took that too.
I'd forget about you, but memories haunt me,
They creep into my bed, whispering softly,
Remember when we broke your mom's TV?
Or our anniversary, on April Seventeenth?
I'd pay for your piano lessons so you could sing to stars,
Okay so maybe not stars, but surely fast moving cars?
How about a trip to Eiffel Tower far off in Rome,
Fine, I guess we could always see that from home.
Your books don't make me smile, come back to bed,
You'll be just a minute, hold on, you said,
I held on to your silk quilt and fell asleep,
You said you'd follow me, before I was in too deep.
You should have told me you'd fall asleep differently,
That I would wake, and that you would stay,
I mean sure, I would have protested adamantly,
But then I'd have no choice but to let you stay.
I guess now we'll never get to see the Eiffel Tower,
It's fine anyway; I hear the air up there is sour.
And we'll never get to sing to fast moving cars,
It's okay; at least this way no potential scars.
I fixed your mom's broken TV screen,
And I got a new apartment down in Queens,
Your phone keeps on uninstalling,
And I keep dreaming of falling.
