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Happiness is somewhere i have been before- |
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A blurry photograph that i have since ignored. |
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I'll carefully adjust the aperture once more, |
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Until i set the record straight. |
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I'll brush aside the dim, make room for the bright. |
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I'll be an editor, no, a curator of light. |
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I'll let my better angels always set me right, |
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Until i even out the score. |
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Until i even out the score. |
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God, it has been quite a year- |
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I've lived a little bit and i've died a little more. |
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I know that i've asked it before, |
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But please let the scale tip here in my favor. |
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What was once the sweetest melody i've heard |
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Is now a memory reduced to little words. |
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I'll tune the orchestra and play the overture, |
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Until i pinpoint every note. |
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Give me the heart of an archeologist, |
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That i may dig until i prove that i exist. |
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A subterranean cathedral in my midst, |
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Where echos come to rest. |
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Where echos come to rest. |
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Is this where echos come to rest? |
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God, it has been quite a year- |
|
I've lived a little bit and i've died a little more. |
|
I know that i've asked it before, |
|
But please let the scale tip here in my favor. |
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Until i set the record straight, |
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Until i set the record straight, |
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Until i can set the record straight. |
