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Suddenly I see myself returning |
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To the scene where |
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I was ridden of this crime |
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Looking at the outline of the chalk drawn on the street |
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I left so much behind here that the silhouette was me |
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I never thought that we were miserable |
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But how can two be only in it for themselves? |
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There is nothing left to say, |
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I've swallowed my tongue anyway |
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Driving out into another state, |
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I can see the road behind me |
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Falling back into the same mistake, so hard to avoid |
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Never will the smallest voice again be silent, yours to destroy |
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Panic followed blindly by depression |
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When the roads become the buildings in your mind |
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Moving up the elevator to floor sixty-three |
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A metaphor? |
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Yes that is right |
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I still cannot be free |
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On the roof |
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I start to realize |
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I may not have a hope at least |
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I have this view |
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Apologies for what's been said, half of which was in my head |
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And if I have to follow you, you will not rip this heart of mine in two |
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You cannot break this chain |
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But you can build a wall to shut me out if you so choose |
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I know that |
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I have come and gone |
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But I can't keep pulling myself away |
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A noose around my neck |
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I walk around the city as the night becomes the day |
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And if you come around |
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I may just not be found |
