It's like why, you know?
Underneath all those lies
lies a soul far more tortured than mine.

Mere words turn hearts
from stone to something brittle
a bitch to turn back, shattered
waiting for time the healer to tell
us a story of what went wrong.

But by that time, it was long gone.
Trust was long gone.
Love was long gone....and you,

You weren't ever the one...
just the second, third, hell just for fun.
I was never your answer.
Nor is he, or him or her save yourself.

I know I can't see
truth through your blinds
from the blues that make up your eyes
to your world that makes you smile
and red anger, through those lies
Still I catch, on the tip of your tongue.

But by that time, it was long gone.
Trust was long gone.
Love was long gone. And you...

You got what you wanted
You got what you you d'served
You got what you wanted
You got what came to you
You got what you wanted
You got what you d'served
You got what you wanted
Ain't that the bitch too.

Magic

I reflect upon myself, if only through a mirror:

in my shoes, a man in metamorphosis, mesmerized 

by the magic of the past, a tragedy of a thousand lies. 

It's the magic of being stuck in time.

The eyes, far out-shined, fragmented by truth, 

were much brighter before we ever met. 

But you gave them light and hope, 

through those blue beacons of your own, 

piercing orbitals of your older magic,

which cast a spell so blissful--

I fell for you like I wanted nothing more,

because no other weaves spells as intricately as yours.

The magic of being stuck in time. 

Incurred by right brain overload, I gaze left, 

toward dangling beads, mementos, bracelets and wristlets alike, 

each every one, of love acquired or love passed.

Your tones--yellow, orange, blue music notes--

now faded, in allegory of the present,

are all I have left of your world.

Tragic, being stuck in time. 

Today, your belle resonates.

Breathe in those memories,

locked inside the time capsule of your aura. 

An imaginary container with no directions,

save a mental note, to keep moving forward, to never pry,

but to lie.

If only to rob a dead man, you linger in my conscious, 

the resin of our affairs fueling our insanity. 

Here's me, dying, to pry.

This is how we choose

They say dreamers belong outside their minds,

but I mind what I say.

And if every word from us was spoken gospel

then girl, you've had me played.

Ten million thoughts passing through my head,

but none of them are right for you.

Countless crows giving me vibes

of a life not so blue

oh, this is (how) we choose

Just another dreamer's tune.

Sorry I waited too soon.

So never go on living

without knowing what you need to know

cuz life's too short for guessing games

and hell, just go with the flow.

And memories of a time

where we could grow older

can lie in rest inside my head

with all the other dreamer's tunes.

Sorry I waited too soon.
Just another dreamer's tune.
Sorry I waited too soon.

-bridge-

Let's say we remember, but let's forget

all those awkward, funny, not-so-funny moments

if you could look me in the eye, cuz I regret

It could only hurt a few more times

but without pain

who am I?

Sorry I waited too long

to tell you this dreamer's song

but life's not so blue

when love's got your back

and you've got mine

and I've got yours

oh this is (how) we choose

oh this is (who) we choose

to sing a dreamer's tune.

Sorry I waited too soon.

Not another dreamer's tune.

Sorry I waited too soon.

Swell Heights

Leaflets, let down like loose strands of locks,

multiflora every which way you look.

The smell of ash and burnt promises,

that is the place where stories are told.

Let us return to our rock

and a hard place,

lest it be just another glacial erratic.

Let those tides turn on their own,

there's no reason to trip up a fall.

Let your heart turn on its own,

there's barely reason to trip, at all.

Steps, amongst moss and rocks

and pictures never forgotten

though we can see their ghosts

blowing in our shadows.

Returning, like back to its sender,

here's the last letter I write to you.

Let those tides turn on their own,

there's no reason to trip up a fall.

Let your heart turn on its own,

there's barely reason to trip, at all.