Melancholically lovely
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What it's all coming to
Crumbs on the table
And mud on these shoes
Treading so long
I can't see where we've been
Tracks on the trail
And nails digging in
Who's to say it's all for the best in the end
Some hands will rob you
And some hands will beg
Some say they'll stay
Til the last dying day
But if actions can't speak
And words cannot do
What ten thousand armies
Can't even fight through
Who's to say it's all for the best in the end
Who's to say it's all for the best in the end
I should have known that all those tangled feelings meant something, a warning, a sign. Thankfully, I can see now, clearer and high-definited. Your insecure move which you perhaps thought was intelligent, has just shifted the whole table around. And luckily I wasn't that deep into this yet. Instead, I come out unscathed but empowered. I know my wants and needs even more clearly. And I know I can listen and trust my gut/intuition even more so now.
I'm ready and I know you will come one day. Soon.