|
Bouquet is broken. |
|
It's found on person. |
|
A threat is sunken beneath the ocean. |
|
And when the numbers count down to none. |
|
Another sequence somehow begun. |
|
And it's the note that stings. |
|
And it's the prose that sticks. |
|
And its question banging around the center of the one. |
|
And to no surprise. |
|
There'll be no surprise. |
|
Reflecting eyes upon the surface. |
|
What's beneath the water trailing out from sea. |
|
I bet you know more that you sermon. |
|
I'll leave you to the blankness. |
|
It's more than you left me. |
|
Please break the pattern. |
|
It's sucking on the more than the worthless. |
|
Swept under the blanket. |
|
That's where you met me. |
|
It's bleeding innocent all over. |
|
In a sense that matters. |
|
Always just empty. |
|
Gone for good. |
|
You can take that how you want. |
|
(I adjust the time. |
|
For you to be here. |
|
Don't go. |
|
And you waste my tears. |
|
And we share our souls. |
|
I'm walking on my own. |
|
I'm walking all alone.) |
