Do you remember the day we bought our beers, packed our bags and made our own party on the hill beside our building? It was just you and me and the sun. We were celebrating the first warm day of spring, but you still insisted on stouts, and they quickly lost their cool in the sunlight but I didn't mind. I brought my camera and photographed the wind curling through that blue and green sundress you loved, and you danced as if you were a leaf in autumn.

Until you spilled your beer, to which I reacted only with regrettable anger. You stopped dancing.

That lead us inside, away from the sunlight, to end the memory. You never wore that sundress again, and didn't enjoy those stouts the same way. We never celebrated another change of season, and I never again photographed you in the wind.

It's a song of pain and of sadness that often comes hand in hand with love; its beat is faltering and ever-changing, matching the pounding in my head and the ringing in my ears. Sometimes I hear your voice, and the way you said you'd regretted almost every part of me is the temporary melody of this new tune. The undertones are constituted of tear drops falling from tear soaked eyelashes, a sound ever so faint but if you'd ever see it happen, it's like an amp overload. I'd like to compare you to myself and put you in this new song - but you're the reason for my hate tonight, and for that, the show will not go on.