Sweet unrest grows sour -- striving, excruciating
yet wanting so badly to atone...
"Go, then and scorn fidelity. Guilt will follow."
This tightrope I walk slices through my feet as the are clay
As if I were meant to fall into both sides of sorrows (so grave, so deep)
To be forced by guile and guilt which so manipulate
For I have paid in insincerity for my small mistakes
I fear the imminent gravity of aborted wishes
I have seen before through eyes like his
I know the pain separation gives
And he hasn't yet learned
Forever never means forever....anymore, anymore, anymore...did it ever?
This is for washing the sorrows away
From these feet like clay...
The rope now gives way, and I know where I stand
He's within, without, and so very over
Like a sweet, sweet dream into which I'll never, ever step again, anymore...
(But there are other dreams, other dreams, oh yes)
Days grow longer and enamoured with the spring
Longer now I watch your face, blue in the silent dusk
But how long will hopes remain inside, entombed, beseeching us?
And how long till your faraway eyes will reach for me?
Will they ever reach again?
Do I hold no mystery? (anymore...)
And how can we romanticize
Once those burning eyes
Have wrapped around my flesh, so consuming my enigma
Is there nothing left?
anymore, anymore, anymore...
This remorse will never disappear
While he refuses to dry his tears
Our guilty hands never rinse clear
So we remain blind in fear, in fear -- and never love
Never love, never grow up