The cardboard TV broadcast
That everything will disappear
Once the lights are on
But how do they know?
Left my sword in your bathtub
Left all my poems to be read by others
It’s 1943, middle of a dream
In fall I’ll chase you on the other side graveyard’s our labyrinth
Poetry is written on my wrist I swear I’ll quit
You promised to put your heart in a jar I’ll never break it
I promise not to lose you in the mist will we dispel it?
I try to reach ya
Bicycle flinches
Feel my breath hitch and
We’re so in sync
Sit on the grass you
Wear those glasses
Tell me, do you see now?
World belongs to us
Sunny ice cream resembles moons
And midnight feels like the very noon
I have some dead butterflies
Which seem to flutter soon
I watch as the summer slowly dies
I kiss all my happiness, it flies away
And I almost say goodbye
But I never really do
It will come back with you
You fall, but I will never leave your side
Poetry is written on my wrists it’s dripping
You promised to put your heart in a jar
I promise not to lose you in these mists just hold my hand, take it
I try to reach ya
Bicycle flinches
Feel my breath hitch and
We’re so in sync
Sit on the grass you
Wear those glasses
Tell me, do you see now?
World belongs to us
Made my life so bright and left me
Standing in the red field
Wind is my own hunter
But I don’t any griefs to rummage though
My life’s so bright, and I’m standing in the red leaves
Wind is my own hunter
But I don’t have any griefs