no watercolour **** about me
if they bottled me they’d sell me in Selfridges
can’t see through me like stained glass
but you might cut yourself on my edges

personality so bright you’ll need your shades on
maybe you were colourblind to my magic
and you will never ever be this cool
how tragic

I have been raided
time and time again
by much weaker men
that stole the best bits of me
to sell them to a market
full of all of their future lovers
and they take my prized knowledge
while they pawn the weight of my words
they sell every spell I wrote
to somebody like it’s their own
they will win over others
using the material of which I am made
and they do it all
as they rip out the pieces
of my brilliant heart

but what they have forgotten
is that what they’ve stolen
will not last them forever
and when they run out
I will still be here
making gold
out of absolutely nothing

i can see around us that
the city building rooftops fake heartbreak into our heads
and the lights are just like visions
as we think silently about who we’ve both had in our beds

in a city that’s full of people
on a ordinary winters night
tell me why does it want you to find me
a coincidence, right?

we were once the dust of you arriving in a taxi
that we'd spun into gold
and here we are sat on a bench feeling something weird
when we thought we’d finally gone cold

your eyes were saying what your lips could not
and above where we sat
every single memory of us projected through the skies
while i hide every real thought under my hat

you couldn't break away
entering the subway to bury us underground
i'll shout only something real
regardless of the crowd

so i guess i will divide us only the numbers
that exist purely in your mind
and you can subtract me in the morning
as we begin to viciously unwind

you can pass around the blame
like it's a game of pass the parcel
you can say it's a hard days work
just to feed the family
because they'd have died of famine
if you weren't telling them all lies