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I should have turned to you and said, |
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It's alright darling... someday you'll forget me. |
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And your eyes would have welled up with tears, |
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Mine would have as well. |
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So these days a wandering mind holds sway, |
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And hope is a knife sick with need. |
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Will you cry out for me in your sleep? |
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Wasting what precious little time we have left, |
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On a dead man trying to find life. |
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Against a bright moon, dark sky, and city lights. |
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The color of her eyes, the taste of her flesh. |
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I've failed again. |
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Quietly leaving, quietly leaving again. |
