I'm leaving this place with the cloths on my back
as if everything old were new again
I only said what you already knew, what you were thinking
there's color in your sadness, in the way you move
like a pale yellow shining through a dirty white
what moves you like words that you love
(and our heart beat in our fingertips, without reason)
what captivates you to watch the ice melt
you're offending motion, you are nothing but wings
I'll tear them off
at least I have the everlasting novelty of uninhabited sensation
and the pleasure of uncertainty
what moves you like words that you love?
(and our heart beat in our fingertips without reason)
what captivates you to watch the ice melt
offending motion, you're nothing but wings
offending motion, I'll tear them off.
How many caesars have I been?
Every cadaver sacred, every cadaver critical
This world isn't mine, it's me
my conscience is nothing but a blot of ink
on a sheet of paper, tearing us apart.
One day the bitter angels of our character will string us back together
and two will become one.