Why do I stand here getting burnt
By the embers of this dying dream,
When all around day it is breaking
And the fire didn’t help me to sleep.
Maybe it’s time for our swan song
Or a pheonix to rise from the deep,
Maybe it’s time that your skin and it’s charms
Are consigned to the pocket full of memories I keep.
Memories which come out on a rainy day
And remind me that I have lived;
I worked pretty hard to arrive at this day
And still feel I have love to give.
I could toss one more branch to the fire –
My skin it still craves for the heat
But I heard someone sing that a moth never knows
That the bright burning candle won’t make it complete
And will the angels be watching
If I head one time to the flames?
Up late at night, cloaked by the stars,
Chasing the flickering silhouette of your frame.
Today I washed both my eyelids
And talked with the mice and the moon.
Tonight we’re entwined together in my mind –
I wonder do you think of me too?
Maybe it’s time for a swan song
Or a pheonix to rise from the deep,
Perhaps with a smile I could bid you farewell
Then we’ll head different ways down the street.