i make believe that you were made for me
as the sun sets and the colors bleed.
mix two different shades of orange and green,
you'll get catastrophy.
stars explode and planets blow up like it's meant to be,
but what if they're simply tired of being?
we must respect their right to end the light we're used to.
...maybe that's why we died?
vacant sighs and borderlines,
all that's left of me.
making a move to be myself.
making a move to fall for someone else,
but someone else is not right,
nothings feels as good as you.
what's the point of guessing if we're reminiscing?
where it goes was never up to me.
wicked eyes exploit me, withered arms support me.
though i burn, i burn for you.
vacant sighs and borderlines,
all that's left of me.
making a move to be myself.
making a move to fall for someone else.
nothing feels right as when we are not alone,
i've waited over the "it's over's."
grip the hand that lowers me onto the grill,
wait wide awake, wait wide awake.
january second, 2011,
maybe i will have the answer then.
is it called starting over when it's never over,
or is it called pretend?
