i awoke once more to copper. tints of green shade the room like your only dress.
now you're gone, off to the store, or for good, but these things change a lot these days. (oh, you're gone again, and this time for good, but everything's changed.)
and your off-white frame fades into the moonlight seamlessly. your silhouette haunts me from a distance, and to your cold touch, i woke.
eyes stuck together; the view of your bedside.
don't lift a finger, your bed's already been made by the setting sun and season's end.
we all lie with our fate; something accessible at the time.
champagne shot onto a wall by a hand dashed against the rafters, like a poem on fire for a friend. i was on my mountain, i wish i cared that they were all over you at the fire.
help me to hold on, or pry off my fingers one by one, i wish i cared. i'm sifting through what's not mine.
i sat there in silence and grew more distrait, and it feel's like last last winter, but everything's changed. and i'm wasting away; another faded shade of grey.
in my dreams you spoke of exile and untouched memories too tattered to carry home.
now you're gone, off to the store, or for good, but these things change a lot these days. (oh, you're gone again, and this time for good, but everything's changed.)
and your off-white frame fades into the moonlight seamlessly. your silhouette haunts me from a distance, and to your cold touch, i woke.
eyes stuck together; the view of your bedside.
don't lift a finger, your bed's already been made by the setting sun and season's end.
we all lie with our fate; something accessible at the time.
champagne shot onto a wall by a hand dashed against the rafters, like a poem on fire for a friend. i was on my mountain, i wish i cared that they were all over you at the fire.
help me to hold on, or pry off my fingers one by one, i wish i cared. i'm sifting through what's not mine.
i sat there in silence and grew more distrait, and it feel's like last last winter, but everything's changed. and i'm wasting away; another faded shade of grey.
in my dreams you spoke of exile and untouched memories too tattered to carry home.