(no subject)
We jump and twist about the screen like puppets on a string
Our minds are caught in some one's bad movie
It'd have been good if it ended fifteen minutes ago
It's rather funny and rather sad
That in the end the things we remember most are the nightmares we had
We pretend to sing in our choir best
But we cry and cut ourselves like sinners in the back room
And scream until the pain is too much and then commences to float on into oblivion
Leaving us behind on black porcelain to ask where do we go
It was something beyond our control that we'll just never know
We lay out on the beach and watch the one seagull, late in going home
What wonders does that deep blue sea hide from the prying eyes of the world?
Always hidden in opaque light and cold despite the protesting summer weather
We wonder faintly what it'd be like to have the sea swallow us whole
After all, it is true when we say we have no where else to go
The feeling is gone and then everything feels like black porcelain again
So smooth and cold and it shines brightly despite the absence of color
It's still better than white with it's promise of hollow purity
Time to burn the photo albums then, we've seen them and pictures don't last long
Memories last longer and even then they will eventually be gone
Then all we are our half-remembered memories
Floating in some one's glass bottle out to sea
Hidden in opaque light and guided by the last seagull home
You can get our photo, we're sure it'll fade one day
And by that time, we'll cut the strings and be far away.
Our minds are caught in some one's bad movie
It'd have been good if it ended fifteen minutes ago
It's rather funny and rather sad
That in the end the things we remember most are the nightmares we had
We pretend to sing in our choir best
But we cry and cut ourselves like sinners in the back room
And scream until the pain is too much and then commences to float on into oblivion
Leaving us behind on black porcelain to ask where do we go
It was something beyond our control that we'll just never know
We lay out on the beach and watch the one seagull, late in going home
What wonders does that deep blue sea hide from the prying eyes of the world?
Always hidden in opaque light and cold despite the protesting summer weather
We wonder faintly what it'd be like to have the sea swallow us whole
After all, it is true when we say we have no where else to go
The feeling is gone and then everything feels like black porcelain again
So smooth and cold and it shines brightly despite the absence of color
It's still better than white with it's promise of hollow purity
Time to burn the photo albums then, we've seen them and pictures don't last long
Memories last longer and even then they will eventually be gone
Then all we are our half-remembered memories
Floating in some one's glass bottle out to sea
Hidden in opaque light and guided by the last seagull home
You can get our photo, we're sure it'll fade one day
And by that time, we'll cut the strings and be far away.