[ Featuring the Dream Surfers ]
I watched your hair catch fire in the light of the sun
I've never wished more fervently for what could be undone
I look to your eyes to convey that I hear your
But I whither underneath an unforgiving and severe view
And I don't think I can handle this
I don't know if I want to
You ask me what is happening and I bruise, I bruise, I bruise
I smell your soul leaving as you open the door
My own choices have never seemed so alien before
Temporary as my self-imposed setbacks may be
I think of home and you every time I see a fruit tree
And I don't think I can hold out
I don't know if I want to
You ask me without talking what to do, what to do, to do
A trip like this seems fatal
But you're the expert I suppose
The deadened leaves will roll
As the cold wind blows
Your advice seems ill-founded
Who am I to say
Made up a batch of Valentines
And promptly gave them away
We held each other's hands when the moon began to wane
There aren't words in any language to express the primal pain
To be truly surrounded with unrelenting support
There needs to be a fundamental new language of sorts
And I can't watch you go through this
I can't even watch myself
Hold my hand quietly
To the tolling of the bell
Becomes a canvas
For assumptions
What am I to make of this
When the tabula rasa
Becomes a canvas
For assumptions
What am I to make of this
What am I to make of this
What am I to make of this
What am I to make of this
