for so many years i held my breath for you,
held under what became the ocean;
struggling to find footing on what became the ocean floor…
and now, as i reflect on what became my foundation…
who am i to say the gr*ss was ever greener
where my own feet struck on the earth?
and that the fields they seemed much neater on my side of the fence;
and who am i to question why you took the path you took?
and who the f*ck am i to open this closed book?
but the pages just keep turning and my pen just won’t dry,
but my eyes they won’t stop burning and yet you still have no reply
i guess that in a way it had to be like this…
and i guess in a way i’m glad it turned out like it did.
because i couldn’t stand your sight if i ran into you tonight;
and if you died i just don’t think i’d have too much to say tonight…