This is the start (once again)
As the bullet from the startgun falls back to earth it reminds us if the reality of it all.
living in this world that turns for the satisfaction of things falling out of place you come to find that life is gray. but every now and then someone or something comes along and waters your eyes with pink and lime green.
its my hand placed on a window fifty stories in the air. and she's my fingerprints smeared over the glass stealing the attention from the ocean below. letting me forget any troubles that have fallen upon my path. and i know that at any time they could be wiped clean letting the clarity reopening my eyes to the person i was, i am and seek to be. but i desperately wish that those imperfect smears remain perfect because they are and have become a part of me. and if the day comes where they are no longer noticeable. still i know that once they did exist and at the moment thats all i cared about.
dont worry a celebration of slain hope from a distant memory that is all you have left.
as my eyes close and open for a fraction of a second, in my mind they remain shut. you are there.
thoughts flood my head of wordless conversations that are fine with me because they make me feel like im close to you.
i know your far away and it bothers you. well it bothers me too. dont think plots. youll be back soon but only to leave again...
"what" your telling me there is a brick wall between us and i cant get over it? i have to wait around until the bricks start to crumble? and until then all we are is a stale cold transmission sent by a telephone? can this work? do you want it to work? will you make it through? will i make it through? im willing to try! maybe its a test. or its like that saying how does it go "the sweets never sweet enough without the bitter," i dont know some shit like that.
living in this world that turns for the satisfaction of things falling out of place you come to find that life is gray. but every now and then someone or something comes along and waters your eyes with pink and lime green.
its my hand placed on a window fifty stories in the air. and she's my fingerprints smeared over the glass stealing the attention from the ocean below. letting me forget any troubles that have fallen upon my path. and i know that at any time they could be wiped clean letting the clarity reopening my eyes to the person i was, i am and seek to be. but i desperately wish that those imperfect smears remain perfect because they are and have become a part of me. and if the day comes where they are no longer noticeable. still i know that once they did exist and at the moment thats all i cared about.
dont worry a celebration of slain hope from a distant memory that is all you have left.
as my eyes close and open for a fraction of a second, in my mind they remain shut. you are there.
thoughts flood my head of wordless conversations that are fine with me because they make me feel like im close to you.
i know your far away and it bothers you. well it bothers me too. dont think plots. youll be back soon but only to leave again...
"what" your telling me there is a brick wall between us and i cant get over it? i have to wait around until the bricks start to crumble? and until then all we are is a stale cold transmission sent by a telephone? can this work? do you want it to work? will you make it through? will i make it through? im willing to try! maybe its a test. or its like that saying how does it go "the sweets never sweet enough without the bitter," i dont know some shit like that.