Here’s another sad song for you.
Wish that I could have made it lighter than
a lead weight weighing down on you,
but I never had you, and I wish that I did.
I waste the sweetest time
on what I know I simply cannot change.
I waste our finest hours
chasing after what will only slip away.
Then again I could not reveal
what goes into making you,
and you serve a place in dreams,
though you are far away from me.
You say, "How could you think
that grey was the color of life?
Stand arms open; to me you still look petrified."
Well there's more beneath,
so run your fingers over me:
deep inside, I am screaming to get out
"How could you think
that grey is the color of our days?"
We set to futile flight; we runaway.
Running over the same old things,
stumble in the same old ways,
different as we may be we both run away.
How could you think that I would paint you a color
that you weren’t entirely comfortable with?
" Why do you think that we have to swim or sink?
Plenty of room to float in between."