I spent so much time making plans
that I don't know who I am anymore
The sun's as dark as any other kinda weather
out the view of my window.
I keep on looking at the sky
but I can't tell which cloud was mine.
I breathe the taste of your lips
in the air, you're still there
and I know I'm not alone.

I know tonight I'll try again
to pretend that I don't care where you are.
Since your with him I must begin
to start this sin cheek to cheek with another.
I hear your song across my dreams
and I can't tell what this means
I feel your heart beat as my own
but I can't care if I feel you there
I have to do this alone.

I gotta get out
to where I belong
but I can't tell if tomorrow is wrong.

I gotta get out
to where I belong
but I can't tell if tomorrow is wrong.

I spent so much time making plans
that I don't know who I am without you.

Although you've lost your heart,
there is no way to be aware
when those nights become restless
with destruction in the air.
I'll steal all the clouds
and leave the sun alone to die
remove the flowers from your hair
and the twinkle in your eye.

You have grown into beauty,
but your insides decompose
a melody of few bars
and lyrics too monotone.
But i can't say goobye
I won't wish you death
I love you so much
that I'm living without breath.

Everything dream is a memory,
our future was meant to pass
or lives were intertwined
when you wanted this to last.
but now we're nothing
not even a crumb of company
I don't know what's left
to keep me going

I can only say goodbye
fifty times in everday
before i make the call
or the letter to say
how much i need you here
but how much i hate you
how you killed everything I was
how i need to save you.

but this is gone.
and I am dying inside.
Who will I become now.
fidgeting and lying
when no one will listen anymore
especially you
I wish I could hold you

and I wish I could save you.

Tell me a Story

Your heart beat tells the story
of the world beneath you skin.
Though you are an author of nobody,
I keep trying to let you in.

Those broken words you wrote say something
about all the hope I left behind.
All of the dreams we could have lived for.
and all of the places that we left die.

Your words are home,
Your words are my home,
but now that our time has come to go,
your story's a love I'll never know.
With the red in your pen,
tell me how it will end.
Tell me a story.

Watching you fade in the backseat window,
the paperback drifting through your eyes.
The heart beat that echos for a moment,
the silence creates our last goodbyes.

Across the sky the color purple,
pressing it's wind against my lips.
The cold of the rain falls slowly slanting,
reminding me where the pieces fit.

Your words are home,
Your words are my home,
but now that our time has come to go,
your story's a love I'll never know.
With the red in your pen,
tell me how it will end.

Tell me a story.
Just Tell me a story.
Tell me a story.
Of how it will end.

With the red in your pen,
tell me how it will end.
Tell me a story.
Author me in.

Headphones

Let my blood be unique today,
Strengthened.
all the words left unsaid must pour steadily in my ear,
with a crimson ink, with a truthful tone.
I can feel it's warmth tearing through my veins.
It's pulse controlling my every step.
I am the puppet of this sound.

Sailing

Well if the color was black,
and if the smell was gone...

or rather if the taste of my lips was the same as always,

or if the songs were replaced by constant push of air...

maybe i feel numb.

6 minutes left and I feel the agony of self defeat.
I am numb.
I am torn.
I am in love.

I cannot break the darkness, or bend the hum.
Love is uncontrollable.

I am self loathing and regret.

I am disgust and contempt.

I am you and you are me.

everything to fear.
Because you forgot me just like I said you would.
Your hair is the color of gold.
But the wheat fields play a sad hum...

this is not as easy as you said it would be.

At least for the man dressed in black.

Golden Hour

We play like children holding hands in a circle.
We watch the leaves find their way from end to beginning.
We know their dance along the back drop of golden hour.
I watch you watching.
I notice you noticing...
This is the end.
Summer dreams just beyond the stretch of ones hand.

Sometimes our eyes meet and I wish to read your mind,
but the senses are weak and I shy to the barrier of thought.
Sometimes the curiosity of our finger tips
searches the lines on the palms of our hands.
I learn the way you are learning.
I know what you begin knowing...
This is the end.
All at once the tears empty out my head.

The darkness spins with the guardians of the night,
billions of lights dancing in the sky.
The golden hour greeted the moon.
I fear you are fearing.
I miss what you will miss.
This is the end.
I wait for our beginning.

Home

The waves crash slowly towards home.
A journey from their explosion on the rocks to your skin.
I brush off the powder white sand that you attracted from earth.
and notice the way of attraction in my dreams.
It holds the pending love in your eyes,
the smile that burns in a distant memory.

I have often spoken between the lines of this memory
of a place I can claim: your arms, my home.
The way that we have known each other's eyes,
sitting across a room feeling a gaze brush my skin.
For the longer portion of my life I've been bound to my dreams,
with your hand in mine, my captor will be brought to this earth.

A phantom touch in reality and a paradise on earth;
The moments lying in the grass wish to be more than memory.
Lingering a softness on the pillow in my dreams
traveling so far only to find that I was home.
My longing aches in my fingertips waiting to touch your skin,
I cannot hold much strength unless I glance away from your eyes.

That hold of minutes to years in your eyes.
A song heard only beyond this earth.
I am ashamed to know the depressions of my skin,
but I cannot evade this memory.
Where can these feet wander once they have found home,
how can they leave behind such beautiful dreams.

It is only a luxury for those who dream,
for one who knows the moments hiding in front of their eyes,
in your deepest darkest thoughts you will feel safe at home.
Breaking the restraints from this shallow earth,
love will become much more a memory.
Hold the weight of kiss against your skin.

Now peel off the barriers of such tormented skin.
Keeping the sigh of an Astronomer's dream
against your skull which resonates a familiar memory,
the kind you feel when we meet eyes.
The way we float above this earth
in our secret place called home.

Railway

You're not from around here are you?
Unfamiliar with oblivian...
Yet you knew my name and my story.
and that is more than i can say for them.

Which way is home, to the right or left.
I can help you find your way.
But I most warn you not to fall asleep
you'll end up like them someday.

That star is mine, which one is home?
It's easy to pretend they're all the same.
We must be lucky to have found eachother.
You and Me, We're We. We're Tame.

Season 4

I placed the necklace in Harmony's hand, and I asked
her keep til I returned. Once before I met her touch
but had forgotten what I'd learned. She kept black string
weaved in her palms with fingers tightened and discerned.
I met my love at a winter picnic to the sound of broken word.

The time that vanished beneath her eyes, have sworn the
beginnings of goodbyes. The moon once warned of our demise,
but I walked my course with a world so turned. The necklace
seemed heavy on her neck, I hope the lights will take it back.
With our memories less intact we'll watch the stars all fade to black.
As the photographs and palm read maps flood the fire's burn.

On the edge of the summer's lake, I try to take a breath
from the worn out alabaster box. Carrying the celtic symbols
of trust and the journey's we once crossed. I throw the rocks
to skip the surface of this so called life. That I might have found
her song written in the frame of night, and the rings we weren't
wearing and the love we weren't swearing. But we are bound.
Before there was anything to learn.

By the dawn we were meant to see the mornings call from the
balcony in a paradise they were destined to fall with a wind's
brush through a broken fern. The summer stayed, the summer gone.
The tides attempt at prevailing song. As Harmony's hand waits
for the return of our love in a new universe.

The sound of Broken Word.

Lullaby of the Homesick.

With her head on his shoulder, she's off to sleep.
From the very ends of the road there's a whisper of "goodnight",
Truthfully, the mystery lies with the man dressed in black.
Hiding behind his distance to humanity, he writes a confession.
The words pour from the pen and set out the blood of where he's been,
it's a long time line to where he wants to be now.

In a traveling room full of breathing corpses
he can't understand why he's the only one awake
watching the wheat pass by on this route to self discovery.
He wants to run through those fields but is separate from this world by a glass shield.
And if he stands, he will awaken her. He will awaken himself.
So he will remain guarding their mobile grave site.
"Older Brother, Shining Knight, Protector"
A redundancy to his biography.

Filing through the pages of a journal that seems empty in its completion,
he can hear her heart beat, even from a distance he imagines it's inflection.
A rhythm that is unique. Just like her eyes and just like her lips.
Just like the kiss so beyond a dream.
As he wonders and waits for the moon to show a sign.
He finds one on the road, that says he's finally home.
And soon he will return to the middle of nowhere.
but once upon a time begins every fairy tale.
Happily ever after is far off, but will be found.
Until than upon a time there was once.

Roses

There are crimes left to commit.
You and I
an anxiety attack waiting to happen.
Breathe through this one, I think we may just pull through.
If not, falling short has never been a problem for me in the past.
My life expectancy is low anyhow...
Making my nose bend out of shape.
One always has trouble to stop and smell the roses
when ones nasal passages are slammed shut.

You always forget to take notes
so I might as well say it again:
I don't expect much of my life
and if the record must show anything
to prove your violent case of the "mondays",
or blatant evidence of disregard for any sort of emotional connection,
I would like to repeat again into the microphone
how I'm sitting alone in the dark pretending to know what to say to you.

Why should I even bother:
Because i would like to know the fragrance of a rose again...

scrape the sky

standing underneath your moonlit shadows
beyond your reach a joke of starlight
nonexistent to any people you call home
the words, their lipless tongueless masses
jumbled in the windows channel with
the empty song of tonight

are you breathing?
can i call you alive?
you've got a heartbeat
that's much like mine...
but you're so different. to me.

a guardian without the strains of heaven
you won't come knocking at my door
if i'm not around tomorrow, the streets took me home
judging by the date and time, you're feeling so left out
do you care who i am?
my dear, do you know yourself?

are you breathing?
can i call you alive?
you've got a heartbeat
that's much like mine...
but you're so different.

the rain washes away your faces
brightly colored faces without a source
to realize their is nothing to assume
about the menacing stature your hold beneath you head
maybe when your dead i won't feel safe to be myself
unless you scrape away the sky.

are you breathing?
can i call you alive?
you've got a heartbeat
that's much like mine...
darling scrape away the sky.

Where the sun is the rain.

Another season brushes away it's weary leaves
to lay a blanket, weaved from frozen white
and I still can't blink my weary eyes
until you take the intrigue from the sky.
I stand here alone, times by choice, times by fault;
watch the cars who employ to captivate: spring to summer, summer to fall.
I stand unchanging to face the inevitable winds
that blew the birds from the sight of it all.

It's tragic and it's true to watch the stars that remain
like I, a restless minstrel, who wishes he could change.
There's a place where i can be, where the sun is the rain,
and i want to live there.

The weeks and the months through a cadence of rush
seemed determined to patch the holes in the sky,
The words splash on the ground, puddles of loss
like paint on a canvas takes the tear from ones eye.
I wish i had words like the breath that you stole
to show you the uncertainty, concern, and your heart.
The inexorable doubt is the best to explain;
All artist will lie about the brilliance of art.

It's tragic and it's true to watch the stars that remain
like I, a restless minstrel, who wishes he could change.
There's a place where i can be, where the sun is the rain,
and i want to live there.

There's always a catch, a bit of a somber twist
i've held back for longer but i cannot resist.
It's real for me, no longer the id
for your freudian guidance that doesn't exist.
I am you, and you are me...
but if this us came together there's no stone to set.
We'd wage war in our hearts and set fire to the present
if only this remained this, but right became left.

It's tragic and it's true to watch the stars that remain
like I, a restless minstrel, who wishes he could change.
There's a place where i can be, where the sun is the rain,
and i want to live there... no more.

Ghost Knots

you don't seem to write me anymore
you never knew how much that meant
to lay down your road map
and help me find home
your arms they cannot hold me anymore
you never knew how much that meant
to be my bright red jacket
and help me find warmth

so what am i without you
standing all alone
your eyes have been closed
i wonder if you've grown

you don't seem to kiss me anymore
you never knew how much that meant
to be my perfect angel
a promise left unkept
you won't have a chance to tell me anymore
to tell me what it meant
but i know if you could find me now
you'd help me get back home.

so what am i without you
standing all alone
your eyes have been closed so long
that i wonder if you've grown
i know you're watching over
i don't know where, i don't know why
but i can feel you making home
a ghostly finger knots with mine