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I can't recall that last day of sun |
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Curtains closed and sitting with the lights out |
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An uncertain emptiness surrounds me |
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I'm numb and my judgments have switched to autopilot |
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Nothing left but echoes and thoughts of moving on |
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Don't stay away but don't stay here. |
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Tell me all your secrets |
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I promise I'll be listening, and if you ever come back home I'll be waiting patiently |
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Tell me nothing sacred. I promise I won't hear a word, and if you ever come back home |
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I won't act so patiently |
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Black feathers and an unannounced call. |
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These things go hand in hand, like talking to you and the intake of glass |
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I hope this knife in my hand speaks for itself... |
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She's not coming back |
